


Ain't No Grave

by SuperFriends (Hokum)



Series: The Dark Side of the Sun [2]
Category: From Dusk Till Dawn: The Series
Genre: Brotherly Love, Drug Abuse, Mental Anguish, Suicidal Thoughts, Supernatural Elements, Tragic Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-25
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-10-09 10:05:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 66,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10409694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hokum/pseuds/SuperFriends
Summary: After the devastating aftermath of You're The Good Things, Kate is desperately trying to find a way to bring Richie back to her. She's just going to need a little help; time to put the band back together.





	1. Chapter 1

Darkness has already crept back into the world by the time Scott and Kate reach the old dirt track that leads up to what was once the Gecko's prime base of operations.  They’d still been at least over an hour away from their destination when Scott had noticed the large plume of smoke that seemed to be coming from the very place they were heading for. The closer they got, the bigger the tower of smoke seemed to get and it welcomed them home like an unruly beacon in the darkening sky. It made Scott uneasy the closer they got to what he had hoped would be a safe place to lay low. The acrid stench of burning rubber and gasoline followed them up the road as they turned off the last of the short dirt tracks. The reason for the all smoke became clear as torched car, that was still billowing smoke, almost blocked their path. Scott edged around it cautiously; he didn’t want to cause another explosion or bring the cops all the way out here. It had taken them twice as long just to get this far due to Scott’s increasing paranoia that someone or something could be following them. He’d taken them along dirt roads, country back lanes and driven miles out of the way just to be sure that nobody was coming after them.  After seeing the burnt out shell of the car it seemed like he had good reason to be so cautious; the front gates to the compound had been smashed wide open, one was hanging limply to the side, and tire tracks tore up the dirt track leading up to the huge metal door that was currently hanging halfway open. It looked like a war zone. Bullet holes riddled the ground, the outside walls and blood was splattered deep into the dusty dirt floor. The shouldering ruin of the car they had passed on the way up here wasn’t the only vehicle to take a hit either. The few cars the Gecko Brothers had managed to steal in case of emergencies were either missing or shredded to pieces by gunfire. Burt’s old truck had started to make a weird hissing sound in the last quarter of their journey and Scott had been hoping to trade it in for one of the spare cars. However it didn’t look likely that any of the ones left would even get them a half a mile down the road and most of them had their windscreens smashed in. Amongst the blood and bits of gore, tell tale piles of ashes littered the ground which could only one thing; Culebra’s. Scott chewed his lip nervously as he tried to decide if they should just keep going or take a chance that the place might be deserted and that perhaps whoever had come here looking for a fight had got what they came for and left. On the one hand, he didn't like his chances if he was faced with a hoard of marauding Culebra’s but he was tired and hungry and so was Kate. He took a quick glance at his sister who was currently staring blankly at her hands and showed neither interest nor any indication that she had any idea where she was.

 

“What do you think Kate?” He asks as he turns towards his sister, “Should we risk going inside?”

 

Kate looks up at him for a moment, almost like she was going to say something, but then she just shrugs and goes back to picking the grime out from underneath her fingernails. Her hands were still covered in dried blood and dirt; it almost looked like she was wearing a pair of filthy old gloves. The smell coming off her was disgusting; Scott wasn’t sure if it was the weird black gunge Kate had been covered in or the various people’s blood that had mixed together with her own. Either way the sooner he can get her cleaned up the better. Scott drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and peered out into the darkness once more. Nothing seemed to be stirring out there; it was as silent as the grave almost, except for the purr of the truck engine.  He’d be glad to get out and finally stretch his legs; they hadn’t stopped once since they left the mine, not even to get food. Kate had made no indication is she was hungry or thirsty or if she even needed a bathroom break so they had just kept going; Scott pushing the speed limit whenever he could, so desperate was he to get his sister someplace safe. When they were kids it seemed like they had to stop every half mile for Kate to use the restroom or for Scott to bug his parents for a snack. His sister had been virtually mute throughout the drive; Scott had made every attempt to get her to say something but all he received was blank stares and one word answers. He tried to tell himself that she’s just in shock and that once he gets her someplace warm and safe that Kate will be alright. That’s the only reason why he’d thought to come here in the first place. With its chain link fence and solid metal doors, the Gecko’s old base of operations seemed like an ideal place as any to go; now he wasn’t so sure. His sister was another reason why Scott needed to get them to a place of safety. Amaru might not be using her like a cheap suit anymore but Kate could still be seen as a threat to the Culebra population or anybody else who wasn't quite from this world for that matter. Who knows what she learnt, if anything, from having the Queen of Xibalba take up residence inside her? Even if they hadn’t wanted to get their hands dirty, most Culebra’s had wanted Amaru dead; Kate could still be considered a threat to them. Or, like Santanico, they might blame Kate for the loss of their loved ones and want vengeance. Either way Scott needed to keep her safe which at this point meant deciding on whether it was safer to leave Kate in the car or to take her with him.

 

“Seems ok,” Scott muttered to nobody in particular. Kate was now looking out of the window which Scott hoped was a good sign. He really didn’t know what he was going to do and he could really use some help right about now; Kate had always been the level headed one. He waited for a few more moments, weighing up his options, until in the end Kate made the decision for him as she suddenly started to get out of the truck.

 

“Kate!” Scott yelled as he quickly unbuckled his seatbelt and climbed out after her, “Kate, wait! It might not be safe!”

 

Luckily, Kate didn't get too far ahead of him before her legs started to wobble and she had to grab hold of the front of the truck to stop herself from falling. Her chest made a rattling sound as she tried to suck some air into her lungs and her knuckles were white as she clung onto the truck. Scott dashed around to help her but she held her hand out in front of her to stop him.

 

“I’m all right! I just need a minute,” Kate said as she clutched her chest, “Go on, I’ll be right behind you.”

 

“I think you should wait in the truck,” Scott told her as he tried to take her by the arm, “I’ll come back out for you when I know it’s safe.”

 

“I told you,” Kate said through gritted teeth, “I’m fine!”

 

Scott scowled but refrained from saying anything as he waited for Kate to compose herself; Kate could be pretty darn stubborn when she wanted to be. Kate took a few deep breaths and then pulled herself into a standing position as she tried to push her matted and tangled hair out of her face. The search lights from the building illuminated her battered face in the darkness and cast an eire glow over her blood soaked skin. Scott had wanted to take her to a hospital but Kate had been insistent that she didn't want to go; well she’d just repeated the word “no” overtime Scott brought it up which wasn't exactly a conversation but better than nothing. It was probably for the best as aside from the fact that she looked and smelt like a murder victim, they had no idea how they would go about explaining firstly how Kate got all her injuries to begin with and secondly how they already seemed to be healing. Even the huge gash in her forehead was now nothing more than a scrape. Kate’s healing rate was still nothing compared to that of a Culebra’s; but it was quick enough to be outside the realm of normal human physiology and not something Scott fancied explaining to a doctor. He had briefly considered Dakota but he didn't really know her that well and she still might be sore about the whole Seth trying to eat her and Richie killing her dad. The healing thing was probably just the lasting effects of Amaru’s blood as Richie hadn't turned Kate; Scott was pretty sure of that they would have noticed that by now. Exactly how Richie had managed to restore Kate back to life, Scott still had yet to learn; it still seemed surreal that she was even sitting next to him after all this time spent without her. The last time he had seen his sister before Amaru had taken her, she had been laying in a puddle of her own blood and bleeding to death on the church floor. The not knowing what had happened to her was probably one of the worst moments of Scotts life; it was almost unbearable having Kate come back to herself only to be cruelly snatched away again. He had run like hell through the mine cavern with Seth as fast as he could to find her. There was no way he was just going to stand by and watch her die all over again. Judging by the ashen look on Kate’s face, it probably wasn't the right time to be asking her about Richie; that’s if Kate even knows how Richie freed her from Amaru’s clutches. Underneath all the caked on dirt and blood his sister face was chalk white and her eyes had taken on a progressively more haunted look as they drove further away from the mine and effectively further away from Richie himself. She’s looking at him now, waiting to see what his next move will be, but it’s almost like she’s just going through the motions, like she’s not really present. It seems like they don’t have any other option except to go forward.

 

“Stay behind me,” Scott whispers, hoping that some of what he’s saying will sink in, “We’ll take a quick look and see what’s what.”

 

Kate gives him another vague nod which Scott hopes means that she’s at least half way on board with the plan. The night air whips around them causing them both to shiver from the cold and pusher them further forward in the hopes of finding salvation inside the battered concrete structure. Scott listens for a few more minutes before he pulls one of his swords out from the backseat and starts to creep slowly towards the entrance to the compound, Kate following close behind him. The huge metal door has a huge dent in it and is hanging halfway open to reveal the pitch black hallway that could lead to either safety or another mess the Fuller siblings had got themselves caught up in. Scott nudges the door open wider with his foot which, unfortunately, causes it to make a loud creaking noise that basically announces their presences to anybody who might be lurking around.

 

“Shit,” Scott whispers as the noise continues to echo all around them.

 

It’s pitch black inside and although Scott can see pretty well in the dark, it’s still a struggle for him to pick a pathway through the darkness. Kate’s shallow breaths seem amplified somewhat in the gloom and she reaches out for Scott’s hand which he gladly takes. There’s a light switch somewhere around here but Scott thinks it probably better for them to keep to the shadows. They’ve barely gone a few feet when they both step on something that makes a loud crunching sound underfoot. Kate grabs his arm frantically and lets out a little gasp as Scott looks down to see that they’ve just trodden through a pile of ashes. There’s nothing they can do about that now so Scott pulls Kate forward by the hand and side steps the rest of it as best he can. Thankfully Kate cant see the blood that is splattered all over the walls as the pair of them edge further along the dark corridor and Scott prays that that’s all that’s left of the intruders. Bullet shells litter the floor and Kate stumbles more than once as her foot skids on the tiny metal cases. It seems like most of the fighting happened down here and Scott tries not to gag as he spots a pile of entrails and what looks like bits of an arm on the other side of the room. The smell of decaying flesh is vile and behind him he hears Kate start to retch. They’re almost all the way inside so Scott pulls Kate along by her hand to get to the fortified concrete room where the Gecko’s had planned all their jobs and gathered all the intel they could on what Amaru’s plans were.

 

Scott swore loudly as they step over the threshold; the whole place had been completely trashed. He crossed over to the wall and flicked on the lights; it now seemed pointless the two of them creeping around in the dark. Kate stared around at the destruction and she offered no opinion or words of help but her eyes lingered on the bloody smears that covered almost every surface. Word must have spread pretty fast among the Culebra’s about what had happened in the desert and there wasn't a draw or storage unit that hadn't been torn apart. Scott had no idea what they could be looking for, and it seemed like the intruders didn’t either; it was just an excuse to trash the joint. The table that Richie and Seth had planned out their assault on Amaru had been overturned; books and pieces of paper had been thrown haphazardly onto the floor and trampled underfoot. Scott picked up one of the fallen chairs and motioned for Kate to come and sit down before he surveyed the rest of the damage. The only thing that seemed to be intact was the hundreds of books that were laying all over the floor. The shiny blade of a dagger was laying hidden on the floor underneath two books so Scott snatched it up set it on the table before he turned back to his sister.

 

"Stay here ok? I'm gonna go check the rest of the place out,” He told her as he pressed the dagger into her hand, “You hear anything just yell and I'll come right back ok?”

 

 “Uh huh,” Kate said dully as she slumped down into the chair and held the weapon limply in her hand.

 

Scott hesitates for a moment as Kate goes back to staring fixedly at the bloody handprints on the wall; he’s way out of his depth with whatever’s going on inside Kate’s head but he needs her to be a bit more focused if she’s going to stand a chance at being able to defend herself. He grabs Kate’s hand which startles her out of her stupor somewhat and makes her hold the dagger tighter.

 

“I’ll be back soon,” He tells her again as he turns her chair away from the sight of the blood, “Just keep an ear out for any noise.”

 

“Ok” Kate mumbles but she seems a bit more present this time and she clutches the dagger a bit tighter.

 

There’s not much more Scott can do at this point; he needs to check out the building to see if it’s safe before they can even think of doing anything else. With a quick last look at his sister, Scott starts to make his way down through the rest of the compound. He didn’t bother with the lights this time; the irony isn't lost on him that the last time he was creeping around a dark corridor, he was trying to avoid being attacked by a possessed Richie. At this point he’d be more than happy to see the younger Gecko brother but after what they’d witnessed earlier that doesn’t seem likely. If the place was overrun by Culebra's or someone else had moved in on their turf what was he supposed to do? He’s completely out of his depth on this one. Seth and Richie had dealt with all that kind of stuff; Scott had mainly hung out with Burt and listened to his stories, smoking weed or practiced his sword skills. He didn't really have any idea as to what to do next as his main priority had been getting Kate away from the mine and now that’s been accomplished he's kind of at a loss. Even once Kate was well enough to move where were they supposed to go? They sure as hell couldn’t go home. The Fuller residence now held nothing for either of them anymore except bad memories. Scott skirted around more bloody footprints as he continues onwards; it all seems pretty quiet down here. Perhaps they would get lucky and not have to flee for their lives once more.

 

The walls are riddled with more and more bullet holes the deeper in he goes, chucks of concrete are strewn across the floor and the smell of burnt flesh lingers in the air once more. It looked like the firefight had been at its worst down here which is unsurprising considering this is where they kept most of their supplies and weapons. Scott let out a frustrated groan as he rounds the corner and surveys the sight in front of him. All the guns and ammunition that they had stockpiled were gone; the iron bared cages that they had been stored in were now reduced to twisted blobs of metal and just a few empty shell cases remaining. Great; now they'd armed almost the entire Culebra population. It makes him feel even more vulnerable knowing that aside from his two swords and the dagger he gave Kate, they now have nothing to defend themselves with. Looking at the empty cages Scott is beginning to wonder if he shouldn't have just kept on driving. Sure, they had food and shelter here but what use was that to them if the other Culebra’s decided to come back? Without any guns Scott and Kate are basically sitting ducks all the way out here. Scott starts to try and clear some of the rubble in a futile attempt to see if any of the guns had been missed in the raid but ultimately came away empty handed. The whole place had been gutted; even the sword from the female Jaguar Warrior Richie had snacked on was gone. Scott didn’t even see the point of taking it as the sword had burnt anyone that tried to touch it; in the end they had wrapped it in an old towel and shoved it at the back of one of the crates. As frustrating as it was, there wasn’t much more Scott could do and once he double checked that everything of any use had been taken he carried on towards the kitchen area. Bits of broken furniture and other debris litter the hallway and once he reached the kitchen he found the floor covered with mounds of broken glass and all the cupboards torn to pieces. Only the fridge was still standing and when Scott opened it he found it was still filled with all the crappy food Seth had brought. Good; at least he’ll have something to feed Kate with later. Broken glass crunches loudly beneath his feet as he clears a path through the broken chairs and shattered crockery. It’s upsetting to see the only place he been able to call home for the past few months to be treated in such a way. Only a few days ago it had felt like a fortress, safe and secure, but now it just felt desolate and empty. Scott’s time here had even been fun at some points; like they were a gang, ready to take on anything dark and ugly that threatened the world. In a weird way it had almost begun to feel a little bit like family to Scott, or as any place ever could feel like home without his sister. But now they were broken; Burt, Freddie and now Richie, all gone.

 

The doors to their private quarters are all thrown wide open, some of them hanging off the hinges, but there doesn’t seem to be anything skulking around down here either. Seth had obviously made it back here before anything had kicked off as clothes were missing from his wardrobe and the hidden safe that he thought nobody else knew about was laying open and empty. He had hoped that Seth might come to his sense once the shock had worn off or that he might come back to help them later but apparently not. Scott didn’t know exactly how much money Seth had squirrelled away but it was probably enough to get him to the elusive beach he couldn’t stop talking about. In all honesty he'd half expected Seth to be sitting here drinking himself into oblivion or already working on a plan to rescue Richie; he still didn't think that Seth would actually leave. Scott slammed Seth’s door shut behind him; fine. They would just have to do this without his help. Scott’s own room was relatively untouched, aside from the mattress being pulled off the bed, but his beloved guitar had been smashed into what looked like a thousand little pieces. Anger pulsed through him as he bent down and carefully picked up all the broken pieces and set them inside the case. It wasn’t like he was ever going to be able to put it back together but it was sentimental to him; it had been a birthday present from his parents a few years back. Once he’s shut the lid of the case Scott turns his back and walks out, he can’t stand to look at any more bits of broken things or trails of blood from god knows what. Plus he needs to get back to Kate, it seems like they’re in a safe enough place for now at least. He sprints back through the hallway in the darkness and skids to a halt when he finds the chair he left Kate in empty and the dagger laying haphazardly on the floor.

 

“Kate?!” Scott calls out as he runs back to the truck to see if his sister had simply gotten scared and returned to the relative safety of the vehicle.

 

He can see from the doorway that the truck is empty so he quickly shuts the door and tries not to panic; he’s sure he would have heard if something tried to snatch her. Maybe she just wandered off to look for him? The state she’s in she could be anywhere by now and he hadn’t really had time to check how long he had been gone for. A loud crash up ahead draws his attention back down the corridor he’d just come from, stupidly he hadn't even checked every room. From what he'd seen he’d just assumed that the coast was clear and that the vandals had moved on. Shit. He is so not cut out for this Scott thinks as he races towards the noise. There’s another loud crash and Scott pinpoints it coming from a room that’s just off the end of the corridor. If anything has happened to Kate he’ll never forgive himself. He’s making enough noise just by running so Scott doesn’t even bother to try and be stealthy as he charges forward and kicks the door to his right open and almost runs straight into Kate.

 

“Jeez Kate!” Scott yells as he lowers his sword, “I almost stabbed you!”

 

The room is empty aside form Kate which is something to say the least as Scott doubts he’d even have the energy to fight off anybody else tonight.

 

“Sorry,” Kate says shorty as she goes back to what she was doing before Scott accidentally skewered her, "I got tired of sitting around.”

 

“I told you to wait,” Scott says crossly as he puts his sword away and wanders into the room, “You almost gave me a heart attack!”

 

Kate just shrugs again and resumes picking up a heap of white shirts and setting them to one side. A quick glance around tells him that, unsurprisingly, its Richie’s half destroyed bedroom that Kate has found herself in. The room has been completely ransacked; all the furniture is upended, the wardrobe tipped on its side and mountains of books are littered across the floor. There’s even a broken picture frame on the floor but the picture is missing, Scott briefly thinks how odd that one of their nighttime visitors would take a picture, before he turns his attention back to his wayward sister. Kate didn’t seem at all perturbed that she’d almost been on the pointy end of one of Scott’s swords; in fact she barely even registered he was there at all as she heaved a ton of heavy books up off the floor.

 

“Careful!” Scott says as he goes to help her, “Let me do that.”

 

“No!” Kate snaps as she pulls the book out of Scott’s grip, “I can manage!”

 

Scott lets go of the book and watches her nervously; this is the most Kate had spoken since they had left the mine. All he’d been able to get out of her before was either one word answers or grunts. Maybe he should have taken her to a hospital after all; the effort of walking from the car to here seems to have drained Kate of whatever energy reserve she was running on. However it doesn’t stop her from gathering up all the books she can get her hands on and stacking them into neat piles on the patch of floor space she’s cleared. Maybe it’s a stress thing Scott thinks warily as he watches Kate’s robotic movements as she starts picking up the bed sheets from the floor. Perhaps Kate thinks that if she keeps busy enough then she won’t have to think about the ordeal she’s been living through for the past few months. She still looks ill though; like she’s about to keel over at any given moment.

 

"Kate, you need to sit down," Scott suggests gently but Kate ignores him and starts making the bed, "Please, just take it easy."

 

"It shouldn't be a mess,” Kate tells him in an oddly detached way as she starts fluffing up the pillows, “I want it to be tidy; for when Richie comes back."

 

Scott can’t think of anything to say to that so he just sighs and starts helping Kate to clean the rest of the room up. It seemed like Richie was planning to start up his own library because half the room is taken up by books; there are probably more books in this one room than Scott has ever seen in his entire life. Stacks of paper filled with Richie’s perfectly neat and tidy handwriting are scattered in every corner of the room and which Scott has no hope of knowing the right order off so he just gathers them up and sets them to one side. Richie never appeared to sleep very much and Scott had all ways wondered what he was doing hold up in his room all the time when he wasn’t with his brother. It appears now Scott has his answer as almost every bit of paper he picks up has the word “Amaru” scribbled on it at least once. Kate is still aggressively making the bed so Scott takes his time to look around the rest of the room, hopefully Richie has a gun hidden away somewhere. The walls are covered with maps of varying different sizes but they don’t look like any country Scott has ever seen. In fact, two of them look like they’re made of some type of skin. Gross. A noise behind him alerts him to the fact that Kate is trying to lift the huge and heavy wardrobe up off the floor by herself, like she’s suddenly transformed into Wonder Woman or something.  Scott gives up trying to tell her off and instead he just moves her out of the way, pulls the wardrobe up off the floor and sets it back against the wall. Kate gives a grunt of thanks and goes back to hanging up all of Richie’s clothes that she had collected from the floor. After asking her if she needs any help and getting no answer, Scott leaves her to it and starts to put Richie’s scattered belongings back into his bedside draws. There’s more paper in here, alongside three leather bound books and a weird rock of some sort. When he opens the next draw what looks like a year’s supply worth of Sour Worms spills out onto the floor. He turns to Kate to offer her some; she must be starving by now, only to find her sitting on the end of the bed with her head in her hands.

 

“Kate?” He calls as he rips open the bag, “You want some of these gummy things?”

 

She doesn’t respond when he calls her name and continues to sit huddled in on herself and rocking backwards and forwards slightly. Scott tries again but Kate just ignores him and Scott can only watch in confusion as she starts to thread her fingers up into her hair, her knuckles turning bone white, as she grips her hair and starts to pull.

 

“Sis?”

 

Kate lets out an agonised scream, raw and full of pain, as she tugs harder on her hair and digs her nails into her scalp. Scott watches her in a horrified silence and before he can stop her, she’s beating herself in the side of the head with her fists; hitting every bit of herself she can reach.

 

"Hey, hey!” Scott yells as runs over to her and tries to snatch her hands away,

“STOP!”

 

Kate just screams louder as she tries to claw at her own face with her nails, raking them across as her cheeks whilst Scott tries to grab her hands. She looks almost demonic as she rages against Scott and he’s not ashamed to admit that he’s a little scared of her at this point. Her eyes are blown wide as she resumes hitting herself in the head just as Scott grabs her by the elbow and yanks her arm away. They wrestle for a moment, Kate still screaming like a banshee, but Scott has the advantage of his Culebra strength. In no time at all he’s managed to push Kate backwards onto the bed and pin her arms above her head. This doesn’t seem to do any good though as Kate just screams louder and louder and Scott can’t tell if it’s through fear or anger. All the pain and torment that she’s been through seems to be channelling itself through her body in one fitful rage.This kind of extreme reaction is something he’s never seen from his sister; not even when their mom died.

 

“Kate, please!” Scott begs as Kate tries to kick against him, “Kate, please stop!”

 

“You should have killed me Scott!” Kate screams as she tries to fight against him, “YOU SHOULD HAVE KILLED ME WHEN YOU HAD THE CHANCE!”

 

“YOU THINK I WOULD DO THAT TO YOU?!” Scott yells back as Kate thrashes about like a wild animal beneath him, “YOU SAVED ME FROM MYSELF KATE; THERE WAS NO WAY I WASN’T EVER GOING TO TRY AND DO THE SAME FOR YOU!”

 

“I’d rather have been dead!” Kate wails desperately, “I’d rather have been dead then live through what she did to me!”

 

“Well you don’t get to make that choice Kate,” Scott yells back at her, “Your time is up when God decides to take you, not anybody else!”

 

“I can’t do this anymore Scott,” Kate cries, “I just want it all to be over!”

 

“What about Richie, Kate? What about him?” Scott shouts as he grabs Kate’s chin and turns her head to face him, “He didn't throw himself into Xibalba just for you to give up on yourself!”

 

“I let him go to that awful place for me!” Kate cries as her eyes fill with tears and she starts to howl with misery, “I should have held on to him!” 

 

It’s an awful sound and long overdue considering what she’s been through, what she’s still going through. Scott can’t think of anything other to do than just let her cry herself out; nothing that he can say, no matter how well intentioned, will ever take her pain away. What do you even begin to say to someone who’s had their whole body stolen from them and been forced to watch as the parasite within them commits acts of such unspeakable horror? It takes a long time before Kate finally stops twisting beneath him and she lays there quietly, panting heavily as she looks up at him wild eyed.

 

“I’m sorry; I didn’t mean…” she gasps frantically as Scott eases up on her hands a little, her eyes wide and desperate, “I’m sorry.”

 

“For what?” Scott asks as he tries to understand what is going through her head, “What do you have to be sorry for?”

 

“For not being strong enough," Kate tells him as tears trail down her cheeks, "None of this would have happened if I’d just been able to-”

 

“Stop it Kate, just stop it!" Scott cuts in angrily, “What were you supposed to do, huh? I must have missed the bit in school where they taught us how to deal with being possessed by an ancient demon. You can't keep blaming yourself!”

 

“That's not what I meant," Kate snaps as she stares up at him, "I should have been stronger!”

 

“Why?" Scott asks as he shakes her slightly to try and make her see sense, "What makes you so special? Why should you have been able to fight her off and not any of us?”

 

He needs her to get it into her head that none of what happened was her fault; that she’s is not to blame for any of this mess.

 

“I know that. It’s just…”

 

“It’s just nothing Kate," Scott tells her, “You did the best you could and nobody could have asked you for anything more. You held on and you’re still you, that’s more than most people can say.”

 

Kate doesn't speak as she turns her head away and looks miserably at the floor. Scott cant quite tell if he’s managed to convince her or not as he slowly releases her hands but she does allow him to pull her into a warm hug as she sits up. They sit in a peaceful silence for a long time, Kate’s head resting on her brother’s shoulder, until she finally pulls away. The expression on her face has moved from one of desperation to that of determination. Its almost scary watching her go from frantic to calm in such a short space of time; like she's gathered up everything terrible thing that happened to her, all the pain, all the fear, locked it up in a box and pushed it all the way down to her feet.

 

“We have to help Richie,” She tells him, her face set like stone, “We have to find a way to get him out of Xibalba, we’re the only hope he’s got!”

 

This is something Scott can deal with; a rescue mission to find Richie is probably the only normal thing they’ve done so far today. Considering that Richie is the only reason why his sister is sitting next to him at this moment, there’s no way that Scott would leave him stuck in Xibalba. That being said, he’d still prefer for Kate to slow down for a moment.

 

“And we will,” He promises her, “But first you have to get some sleep; you’v been awake for hours now.”

 

“I can sleep later! Right now we need to be doing something! Making a plan or going back to the mine!” Kate says as she leaps to her feet, like she’s about to charge right out the door, but Scott pulls her back down again, “Please Scott; I can’t rest when I know he’s down there!”

 

“No, first you need to sleep Kate,” Scott tells her firmly, “And we both need food. We'll help Richie, I promise you on that, but you can't help him if you don't take care of yourself first.”

 

Kate opens her mouth in preparation for an argument but a loud gurgle from her stomach cuts her off. She lets out a frustrated groan and flops back down on the bed.

 

“Well, that answers that,” Scott says with a laugh as he climbs off the bed, “I’m gonna go make you a sandwich, will you be ok by yourself? I’ll be as quick as I can.”

 

Kate nods and starts pulling her filthy shoes and socks off; the smell off is disgusting and she throws them away into the pile of rubbish in the corner. Scott hovers in the doorway for a moment just to make sure Kate isn’t going to start  to attacking herself, but she merely goes back to robotically cleaning up Richie’s bedroom. There’s some bread and sandwich fixings in the fridge, as well as a couple of cans of soda and a stash of chips in one of the cupboards. Thank god for Seth Gecko’s junk food cravings. There’s also a shit load of booze but that’s probably not going to help Kate at this moment in time.Ten minutes later he’s got a pile of sandwiches plated up and an armful of chip packets as he tries to ignore his own unique hunger cravings. Now is not really a good time to be off hunting but thankfully they've got some bottled blood stashed away for emergencies. It’s nothing like the sweet nectar of fresh human blood, the thought of which is making Scott’s mouth water, but it will do in a pinch. He drains two bottles in one go and wipes his mouth greedily. At some point he’ll have to find some proper food but the thought of leaving Kate alone any time soon is making him feel uneasy. The last half an hour had been intense to say the least.

 

“I could only find Cheese and roast beef,” Scott calls out as he makes his way back only to find Kate curled up asleep on Richie’s bed. He sets the plate down quietly on the bedside table and covers her gently with a blanket; finally she can have some peace and get a bit of rest. The whole “being undefended in case of attack” is still bugging him so he retreats quietly so as not to wake her and heads back outside. The wire gate will need a better repair job then he can provide at this point in time but he does manage to get it shut almost all the way by securing it with a length of rope. Next he backs Burt’s truck up out of sight from anyone who might be driving up the pathway; hopefully they'll be able to get to it in time should any unsavoury characters decide to pay them a visit. All that’s left is to barricade the heavy metal door behind him, the broken furniture actually turned out to be useful, and try not to think about the fact how alone and desperately vulnerable they both are. Seth could still come back though, Scott thinks hopefully as he makes his way back to Kate, or Freddie or hell, even Dr Tanner would be of some use right about now. However his gut is telling him that they are completely alone in all this. Kate is still sleeping soundlessly so Scott props up one of the pillows and lays down next to her. The tidal wave of tiredness that he’s been holding back for the past few hours washes over him and he’s powerless to stop his eyes from sliding shut.

 

It seems like Scotts only been asleep for a minute when he jolts awake and his body sluggishly comes back to life. Glancing at his watch it turns out to be hours later; twenty hours in fact. Kate is already up and sitting cross legged on the bed next to him, a huge book propped open in her lap and a half eaten sandwich in her hand. Judging by the looks of her, the fresh plate of sandwiches and the mountain of empty Sour Worm wrappers piled up next to her, she's been already awake for hours.

 

“Oh good, you’re awake,” Kate says without looking up as she continues to read as Scott yawns and stretches the kinks out of his body. It’s easy to pretend that the last few days didn’t even happen now that they’re both relatively safe, rested and well fed. He casts a concerned eye over his sister but all the extreme emotion from last night seems to have dissipated, for the moment at least. At some point whilst Scott was asleep Kate must have had a shower, as she no longer smells like raw sewage or looks like a dead body that was dumped along the roadside. She looks clean and fresh, and a lot more like herself now that the thick layer of dried blood and dirt that had covered most of her hands and face had been scrubbed clean from her body. Even the cuts and bruises didn't look half as bad as they did yesterday and some of the swelling on her face has already started to disappear. Her chest must still hurt though, Scott can tell by the way Kate holds herself, and she still has yet to get any of the colour back in her cheeks. But she no longer resembles a murder victim so Scott would call that a win. Kate’s hair on the other hand was a different story. It had been so matted and tangled that a brush had simply refused to go through it and in the end she had just hacked it off with a pair of scissors, leaving her with an uneven shoulder length bob.

 

 

“Do not mention my hair,” Kate tells him as she still pursues whatever it is she's looking for in her book, “I can feel you looking at it.”

 

“Wasn’t even gonna mention it Sis,” Scott chuckles as he throws a handful of stray Sour Worms in his mouth. Kate must be feeling better if she’s back to being the bossy older sister.

 

“Good. And you need to wash your clothes more often. This was the only thing I could find that didn't smell like old feet,” Kate says as she gestures to the t-shirt she’s wearing.

 

“Excuse you,” Scott said playfully, “I don’t have time to wash clothes whilst I'm off being a rock star.”

 

Kate rolls her eyes at him and its only then that Scott notices that she’s wearing the scrub pants that they had taken Richie home from the asylum in. She’d had to roll them up a few times so she didn't trip which only serves to make the bruises on her pale legs all the more visible. Underneath the clean skin and new clothes she still looks exhausted; like she's running on pure adrenaline alone.

 

“You should be resting,” Scott says for what feels like the millionth time as he tears into what seems to be the only bag of Sour Worms Kate hadn’t managed to eat.

 

“I’m fine,” Kate says as she stuffs another sandwich in her mouth and leans over the side of the bed to pick something up, “Look; I found all this stuff whilst I was tidying up.”

 

The patch of floor space Kate had cleared earlier has now been filled with piles of books, manuscripts and notebooks, all arranged in neat piles. A couple of them he recognises from when Richie was researching how to find the greatest Xibalban warrior that ever lived, a.k.a Burt. The rest of Richie’s bedroom is almost spotless, aside from all the books, and underneath the strawberry scented shampoo Scott can smell bleach on Kate.

 

“You cleaned?” Scott asks as her incredulously as he looks around at the now pristine bedroom.

 

“I couldn't sleep,” Kate says as she waves aside his concern and hands him one of the notebooks, “Read it.”

 

Scott opens the book curiously to find it filled with hand drawn Xibalban symbols with the English translation neatly printed underneath each one. He flicks through some pages to find full paragraphs have been translated and written down in Richie's impeccably neat and tiny handwriting. Scott lets out the breath he’d been holding as he looks back at the pile of leather bound journals; there must be at least fifty of them. Most of the road blocks they'd encountered whilst trying to defeat Amaru was due to the fact that none of them could read any of the ancient texts Richie had “borrowed” from the Lords. Even Burt was too far gone to be of any real help and he’d been in Xibalba. Below a few unfinished scribbled pictures there’s a small notation that Scott has to squint at to read.

 

“..the entrance to Xibalba is bared by more than just gates,” Scott reads with interest, “Not all those who seek it, shall find it.”

 

He sets the book down to find Kate practicality humming with excitement as she jumps off the bed and snatches up another book and frantically turns the pages. Evidently this is what she had been doing when she should have been trying to get some sleep. She seems a little manic, but Scott supposes that’s better then her trying to beat her own face in.

 

“I haven’t read everything, there’s too much,” Kate babbles, more to herself than to Scott, as she grabs another book, “But he talks about Xibalba and the gate, this might be what we need to get Richie back!”

 

Even though he knew this was coming, its still nerve wracking to think that they’re even considering going back to the place were both of them almost died. Scott shivered slightly as he tried to suppress the feeling of Amaru hoisting him up into the air like a puppet. Kate is looking at him expectancy, clutching one of Richie’s books close to her chest like its her own personal bible and Scott knows that wherever Kate is going, he’ll be right behind her.

 

“All right,” Scott says as he tries to shake the last little bit of fear away, “What’s the plan?”

 

“We need to go back to the mine shaft,” Kate tells him, her eyes alive and bright with life once more, “I think I’ve found a way to get Richie out.”


	2. Chapter 2

The fact that it’s dusk once again seems to be a recurring theme for Kate and Scott, as they reach the deserted town of Matanzas. It was strange seeing all the broken down buildings silhouetted against the blackness of the night sky; it looked a lot less intimidating at any rate. When everything was bathed in the erie blueness from the eclipse Amaru had brought forth, it had seemed like they were living in another world. There was a coldness about the place; like nothing could or should ever live there. Well, nothing living anyway. Now it doesn't look all that different to the last time they were here, a mere thirty six hours earlier, and the air still reeks of burning rubber from the truck Seth had blown to smithereens. The billowing black smoke causes Kate to choke as they pull up behind one of the ramshackle old houses. 

 

“Come on,” Scott says as he slides out of his seat, “Stick close to me.”

 

Kate almost looses her balance as she climbs down from the truck; the smell of burning flesh that hit her as she opened the truck door, is starting to make her feel sick. 

 

“We’ll have a quick look around first,” Scott tells her as Kate catches up to him, “Make sure nobodies hanging about.”

 

Kate nods in agreement as she pulls her clean sweatshirt tighter around herself. Unbeknown to Seth, Scott and Richie had snuck into one of the nearby towns to pick up some clothes and other bits and pieces for Kate.

Scott had hated seeing his sister dressed up in that leather getup and all that make up; it was so unlike anything Kate would ever pick for herself. He had wanted her to have something that made her look less like a reject from the Rocky Horror picture Show when they eventually got her back. It had never been a question of if they got Kate back for either Scott or Richie; Kate was always coming home, one way or another. The shopping trip had been eventful to say the least; Scott had never given much thought to his sister’s bra size before and Richie was worse than useless in that department. Scott had hidden all the stuff in a bag at the bottom of his wardrobe until it was needed. 

 

“Ok,” Kate agrees as she starts hurrying after him, “But we need to be quick; it could take us ages to get into the mine.”

 

Scott nods and starts to walk up to a couple of the houses but he doesn't really expect to find anything. It just looks like a dusty old town that nobody had bothered with for decades. 

 

“Eww,” Kate grimaces loudly behind him, “I stepped on something!”

 

She lifts her shoe up to find half of Brassa’s eyeball sticking to the bottom of it. To her credit, Kate doesn't freak out that much, even when Scott manages to detach it and flicks it across the dirt floor like a ping pong ball. There’s a loud cawing noise and beating of wings and before either of them can say anything, a buzzard swoops down and snatches up the eyeball.

 

“Gross,” Kate shudders as Scott just laughs at her squeamishness.  

 

Now she looks closer, she can see that the charred remains of the Sun God are scattered all over the courtyard. Another buzzard lands on the ground beside her and it scuttles forward to start pecking at an indistinguishable lump of flesh. Kate turns away as a whole flock suddenly descends down into the town and starts squabbling over the remains.

 

“I’ll just wait by the truck,” she tells Scott as she tries not to gag, “You go on ahead.”

 

“You sure?” Scott asks her as he casually wipes eyeball goop on his pant leg.

 

“Oh yeah,” Kate says, just as the birds start having a tug of war with a stringy bit of entrails, “I’m good.”

 

“Ok,” Scott affirmed as he starts walking back towards one of the houses, scattering the birds as he goes, “I’ll be real quick.”

 

Once he’s disappeared around the corner Kate hugs her arms around herself and tries not to let the overwhelming sense of panic she’s been feeling ever since they got here, take over. Maybe it was naivety on her part but she hadn't expected the tiny little town to effect to her so much. Scott is already out of her line of vision and she can’t stand to look at the birds feeding frenzy, so she wanders down the path away from the town. Her memory of this place is dull and foggy at best; when she tries to pull her thoughts together its like trying to see through a dusty window. Kate kicks the ground in frustration; the fact that she can't remember stuff is really starting to piss her off. Amaru had shoved and pushed her so far back into herself that she was even struggling to remember small details and her concentration levels still weren't great. Scott keeps telling her it will take time but she doesn't have time to waste; Richie needs her help! She’s about to turn back when a flicker of the tall white steeple catches her eye. Its only for a moment but Kate forces herself to turn away before the fear can fully grip her. She needs to have a clear head if she has any hope in helping Richie. 

 

“Kate?” it’s Scott, come to find out where she’d got to, “You ok?”

 

Kate just stares blankly at him for a moment and she startles slightly when Scott reaches out and gently touches her arm.

 

“I’m fine,” she bristles, brushing him off as she heads back to the truck without looking back. It sounds ridiculous but she can almost feel the dark presence of the church, a place that once held so much joy for her, pushing against her and trying to draw her back to it. Perhaps the only good thing about the mine tunnel collapsing, was that they wouldn't have to go back to the church.

 

Scott is watching her carefully as she leans against the truck and takes a swig of water from the bottle she had brought with her. Seeing the church again had clearly shaken her, not that she was willing to admit it. He had almost insisted that he should come back here alone to try and find Richie but Kate had been adamant. So adamant in fact, that she’d threatened to go back by herself during the day if Scott wasn't willing to come with her. There was no way that Scott was going to let her do that so he had reluctantly agreed to accompany her, but under the strict condition that they didn't stay too long and if there was any sign of trouble that they left immediately. Looking at her face now he’s not sure he’s made the right choice; Kate shouldn't even be walking, let alone off on a rescue mission. All though he may as well have been talking to a brick wall when he tried to convince her to take it easy. Her mind was set and nothing Scott could do or say would change it.

 

“Ready?” he asks her as she tosses the water bottle onto the seat and wipes her mouth.

 

Kate gives him the thumbs up and grabs the backpack she had insisted on bringing with them out of the backseat of the truck. She had been stuffing all sorts of things in there just before they left; Scott had tried to convince her to travel light and that they didn't need to bring every single book that Richie owned with them. His sister had certainly regained her stubborn streak and had instead stuffed as many books as she could fit in there. After a ten minute bickering session that got them precisely nowhere, Scott conceded that she could bring one book and one of Richie’s notebooks with the agreement that they could always come back for more. It turns out to be the right decision in the end; even though its night time, the air is still thick with heat and Kate is already sweating underneath the weight of just one heavy leather bound volume. Not that she would ever admit that to Scott as she hoists the bag higher up on her shoulder.

 

The plan was to walk back to the mine rather than drive so they wouldn't drew attention to themselves if any of Amaru’s henchmen were still lurking about. Scott had sent up a silent prayer in the hope that they might pass through unnoticed; only either the very brave or the very stupid would even contemplate coming back here and neither him or Kate are exactly up for a fight. Once they had hidden the truck as best they could, Kate and Scott pick their way through the dust until they find the hidden trail that leads back towards the mine shaft. It takes them a little while to remember which direction its in and they have to double back on themselves a few times before they get the right trail. The heat out here is even worse as the leave the relative safety of the town and it seems like they walk forever until they find anything that looks even vaguely familiar. Kate is almost about to suggest they turn back and try another route, when Scott recognises a slab of rock he sat Kate on so she could catch her breath the last time the were here.

 

“Come on,” he says to Kate as he tugs her gently by the arm, “It’s this way.”

 

“You sure?” Kate asks as she squints in the darkness, “It all just looks the same to me.”

 

She can barely remember the journey from the last time she was here, which is understandable considering Scott had practically carried her all the way back. Her mind had effectively caved in on itself; leaving just one big blank space. There’s only so much a person can take and at that point Kate had finally reached her breaking point; her body and soul had been through too much in such a short space of time to fully comprehend what had happened. First had come the shock at being released from her prison, then the unparalleled joy of being reunited with her brother, and then the love that had poured into her when Richie finally taken her in his arms. It was like her whole body had come back online; every thought, every feeling that she had been denied by Amaru was unleashed and Kate had almost felt like herself again. Then came the killer blow, one final act of cruelty from the woman that had stolen her body and had now taken the one person Kate loved with every particle of her being. So she’s shut herself off again for now; even partly from Scott because if she opens up to him, even just a tiny bit, she’ll just fall to the floor in a ball and never get back up again.

 

“Kate?” Scott asks and Kate can tell by the way he saying her name that it’s not the first time he’s called her, “I said we need to try and go around the other side.”

 

“Oh,” Kate acknowledged, aware that she’s probably just been blankly staring at the desert this whole time, “Sorry, its just so hot out here.”

 

Scott doesn’t look very convinced, even as Kate forges on ahead of him.

 

“Are you sure you’re ok?” he persists as he catches up to her, “If you need a minute I can wait.”

 

“I’m fine,” Kate insists as she attempts to smile and ignore the sick feeling that is beginning to churn over in her stomach, “We should get going.”

 

Scott gives her a reproachful look but he doesn't demand that they stop which Kate is thankful for. The more time they waste wandering around out here is more time spent away from helping to get Richie out. If her legs were up to it she would already be running her way back to the mine. After what feels like forever they finally reach the entrance to the mine and Kate drops gratefully down onto the floor to take a breather. Her shoulders are aching with the weight of the bag but she refused to let Scott carry it; he’d find out about all the extra stuff she shoved in when he wasn't looking.

 

“Maybe we can move a couple of the smaller rocks?” Scott suggests, all though he doesn't sound very convinced, “Try and crawl in that way.”

 

“Can’t hurt to try,” Kate agrees as she pulls herself to her feet and inspects the fallen entrance. 

 

It quickly becomes apparent that there’s no getting back into the mine the way they came out; its completely blocked by huge slabs of rock that not even Kate, small as she is, can squeeze through. In the end they decide to hike their way around to see if there’s another route in through the back way. Scott has a vague memory from History Class about how some of these old mine shafts always had two ways in just incase the workers got trapped or an earthquake hit. The path round to the back of the mine is dangerously narrow and it would only take one misstep for either of them to head first down into the ravine below.

 

“Take this,” Scott says as he hands Kate the torch he’s stuck in his pocket so she won’t tumble off the side in the dark, “Stick to the side and keep close to me. We’ll come back and try the other way if this doesn't work.”

 

Kate nods gratefully as she takes the torch and turns it on; the small beam of light casts shadows all around them and she shivers again. It reminds her of being inside that awful mansion with all the flickering candle lights. She grabs onto the back of Scotts jacket as they stumble over the uneven ground and try their luck around the back of the mine. It takes them a good couple of hours of wandering around until they finally find what looks like an alternative way in. Kate was almost beginning to give up hope when she spotted the splintered wooden frame that held up back entrance. It was much, much smaller than the way in and they had to dig out a load of rocks and sand before they are even able to see if they can fit through it. 

 

“Phew,” Scott grimaces as he wipes the dust of his face, they're both filthy again, “You wait here whilst I go see if its safe. And I mean wait Kate; I don’t want you charging in right behind me.”

 

“Ok,” Kate grumbles as she sits herself down on a rock, “I’ll be good.”

 

Scott pulls his jacket off and wriggles in between the heavy wooden pillars that are blocking the way in; he hadn't wanted to move them for fear of it collapsing. It’s hard going and he has to crawl through the dirt most of the way, coughing all the way, but after a while the tunnel seems to even out and he can almost stand up. It looks like the tunnel goes deeper and it seems to be relatively safe at this end. Once he’s sure that the whole thing isn't going to collapse on him, Scott crawls back the way he came and explains to Kate what he found.

 

“I don’t know how deep it goes in,” he tells her as he brushes some of the dirt off himself, “Or if it even leads back to the gate but its a start.”

 

He’s about ready to head back in when Kate calls out to him.

 

“Scott,” she says earnestly, “Thank you, I mean for this. You didn't have to come back here with me.”

 

“Hey,” he smiles at her, “Where you go, I go. We’re family remember?”

 

Kate beams at him as she discards her jacket and prepares to crawl in after him. It’s hard going; Kate’s body is still weak but she ploughs on determinedly, even when her lungs get clogged with dirt and her eyes sting from the thick layer of dust that hangs in the air. It’s also boiling hot down here and more than once she feels her head swoon from the heat. Sweat drips down her nose and just when Kate doesn't think she’ll be able to make it much further, Scott is holding out his hand and pulling her to her feet. Its a relief to be upright and out of the claustrophobic tunnel even if it is still hot as hell down here. Kate wipes her sweaty brow and shines the touch around so she can take a look around; it doesn't look all the different to all the other bits of rock she’s seen. Scott still has to duck but thankfully being short has payed off for once and Kate can stand comfortably. 

 

“Which way?” she asks him as she gestures to the two paths either side of them.

 

Scott thinks for a moment as he looks up and down each way before he comes to a decision. He’s not really sure what to base his decision making skills on expect he's looking for the road that is least likely to kill them.

 

“This one,” he decides in the end, “There doesn't seem to be as many rocks.”

 

“No,” Kate whispers suddenly, her face pale as she points to the opposite path, “Its this way.”

 

“Really?” he queries as he peers down into the darkness, “How can you tell?”

 

“Because it smells like death,” Kate says simply as she walks past him and starts to feel her way along the rock wall.

 

“Great,” Scott mutters as he catches up to his sister. 

 

Kate is already a good few feet ahead of him and Scott has to sprint to catch up with her. He catches hold of her arm to make her stop and face him; he gets that she wants to find her way back to the gate as quickly as possible but they need to be sensible about this. 

 

“First sign of trouble we bail ok?” Scott reminded her as Kate opens her mouth to protest, “No arguing. If I tell you to run, you run ok?”

 

“Fine,” Kate agrees begrudgingly, “But we don’t leave until we’ve found where the gate used to be, deal?”

 

“Deal,” Scott says, all though he doesn't like to point out that they might not even find the gate; it could be buried under two tons of rock for all they know.

 

Kate is undeterred however as she points the torch down the passage way to try and get her bearings. It turns out to be an easier trek then the one they just endured, almost too easy Scott thinks as after a while the passage way opens up wider and he's able to stand up straight. Then they hit a sharp cure that seems to take them downwards and deeper into the mine. The pull in his gut and the increasing feeling that something ancient exists down here tells Scott that they are at least going in the right direction. Maybe it’s the little piece of Xibabla he has inside him, but he can literally feel something pulling him like a compass in the right direction. Next to him, somehow Kate must feel it too as she has gone as silent as the grave. Down they go, the floor slopping so badly that they both have to stagger themselves to remain upright, until they hit another turning and then another one after that. It seems like they've been walking for hours until Scott starts to notice that a couple of wall markings that look familiar; they must be going in the right direction. They follow them for a few more miles when suddenly they’re stood right back where this nightmare all began. There’s only a tiny patch of floor that isn't taken up by the ceiling that caved in and through the darkness, Scott can see the rock wall that once housed the gate to Xibalba. He’s about to take a step towards it when the whole cavern is lit up by a huge beam of light and he just about pulls himself back against the wall in time. How long had they been down here? It can’t be daytime all ready can it? Behind him, Kate gives him a prod in the back and points to the huge hole were the ceiling used it be. Its just the moon; full and bright in the midnight sky. Once he’s collected himself, Scott takes a cautious step forward; the ground seems stable but he wants to make sure. 

 

“I think it’ll hold,” Scott whispers to Kate as he holds out his hand to her, “Come on, but be careful.”

 

Kate is about to take his hand when her eyes fall on the fallen rock behind him. It hits her like a punch in the gut; her head is swimming with flash backs of fighting with Amaru, watching Scott dangling above her like a puppet and Richie being ripped away from her. She can hear him inside her head; telling her to run and then her own screams as she begged him not leave her. The pain in her head is almost too much and Kate lets out a loud moan as she presses the heel of her palm to her forehead. Even the smell of the dirt is causing her to panic.

 

“Kate?” Scott says frantically as he hovers over her, “Are you ok?”

 

“I’m fine,” Kate whispers as she tries to bring herself back to the present; she cant change what has already happened, she can only try and keep herself from falling so far that she’s of no use to anyone.

 

“Are you sure?” Scott asks, the concern evident in his voice.

 

Kate nods as she straightens up and turns away from him to wipe her tears away with the back of her hand; her brother has already seen her cry far too many times so far.

 

“Right,” she says, trying to be practical and ignoring the fact that this whole place is making her jumpy, “You see if you can shift some of those rocks and i’ll get everything ready.”

 

Kate drops the backpack she’d hefted all the way here, and starts pulling out the huge leather bound volume she had picked as being the most useful to them. Scotts not really how she decided on this, there were hundreds of books back at the compound to choose from, but from Kate had managed to decipher it was the only one that mention Xibalba a lot. It[s only once Kate has emptied the bag of everything she needs that Scott realises with a sinking feeling that they didn't bring any weapons with them. Shit; his swords are still laying on top of the dresser in Richie’s bedroom! What are they supposed to do if some demon got left behind and decides to make a meal out them? Throw rocks at it? Kate must sense his unease by the way she’s looking at him,

 

“Scott?” she asks, frowning, “What is it?”

 

“My swords,” he groans, “I left them back at the compound.”

 

Kate considers this for a moment, but evidently she doesn't see it as that big of deal, because she simply sits her self down on the floor and pulls the book she brought over to her.

 

“We’ll be fine,” she says breezily as she starts flicking through the pages.

 

Scott would like to insist that, no, they will not be fine if anything dark and menacing should chose to attack them. He’s been around the Gecko’s and Carlos for long enough to know that you should always be able to defend yourself. He tries to explain this to Kate but she just shrugs and insists that they don't have anything to worry about and in the end Scott has no choice but to leave her to her book. He climbs over some of the larger boulders and shoves his shoulder against the huge rocks that sit in front of where the gate is. The hole were Amaru stuck her hand in is just about visible but its mostly blocked by a massive ton of rock.  

 

“Dammit,” Kate mutters just as Scott almost crushes his foot with one of the boulders, “I should have brought a pen with me.” 

 

 

She’s got the massive leather bound volume resting in her lap and a small notebook in her hand. It was lucky for them that Richie had taken it upon himself to transcribe the entirety of the Lords library into English, otherwise they wouldn't have even gotten this far. Kate had leafed through as many of his writings as she could and brought what she thought would be of any use in terms of opening the gate to Xibalba. Unfortunately, it quickly became apparent that most of Richie’s reading and transcribing was mostly centred around how to help Kate; he’d hadn't gotten around to anything that would help get someone out of Xibalba. Looking through his perfectly punctuated notes, it had really hit Scott just how hard Richie had tried to help save his sister. 

 

“Ok,” Scott grunts as he gives the rocks one last shove, “I don’t think I can shift these Kate.”

 

He’d barely been able to move them an inch and he was kind of worried that if he did manage to move them, he’d bring the whole mine down on top of them.

 

“I’m sure it doesn't matter too much,” Kate says airily, “I mean he should be able to fit through that gap, right?”

 

“Umm, maybe?” Scott offers, although he wouldn't exactly bet his life on it. The gap between the fallen rocks and the rock wall is pretty small and Richie wasn't exactly a short person.

 

Kate has already gone back to her reading; clearly keen to ignore the fact that their rescue mission isn't exactly shaping up the way she had hoped. A very small part of her had secretly hoped Richie might just be sitting here waiting for her, a little dazed maybe, and that they could all go home and put this whole nightmare behind them. Clearly it hadn't worked out that way, so she would just have to try harder to find a way to get him out. The notebook she took seems to be a good start; Richie had managed to transcribe the majority of the Xibalban alphabets, there were over twenty of them, and a serious of complex mural codes that matched with the other book she had. 

 

“Ok; If I’m reading this correctly," Kate informs him as she traces her finger across the page, "It say’s that to open the gate, you need the blood of a black goat, a man of strong conviction and whatever this word means.”

 

She gets up and brings the book over to Scott so he can see what she’s looking at. He takes the book from her and then just stares at it nonplussed; it looks like some weird blob thing.

 

“Kate, I can’t read that,” Scott says unhelpfully as Kate is busy inspecting the rocks he’d been trying to shift, “It’s just gibberish to me.”

 

“But it’s part of your history," Kate points out as she takes the book back somewhat dejectedly, "Didn't you bother to learn any of it?”

 

“Not really, just the fighting stuff from Burt,” Scott shrugs, “I’m not a nerd like you and Richie.”

 

Kate’s scowls at him in annoyance, mainly at him for calling her a nerd, but manages to refrain herself from actually telling him off. She can be such a Mom sometimes and Scott doesn’t need another lecture about how he should pay more attention in class. Learning a long dead language hadn’t exactly been high on his list of priorities the past few months.

 

“Beside,” he tells her, “You don't even have any of that other stuff. Where are you going to get black goat from anyway?”

 

“Oh yea of little faith,” Kate scoffs as she picks up her backpack and pulls out a flask, unscrews the lid and hands it to him.

 

“UGHHH, That stinks!” Scott yells as he catches a whiff of it, “What is that?!”

 

For some strange reason, any other blood besides human blood smells absolutely vile to him. He had been meaning to ask Burt about why that was, but sadly he’d never got round to it. Richie would probably know.

 

“Chickens blood,” Kate says happily and she puts the lid back on, “I found it whist you were asleep. I’m sure it'll be do in place of a goat.”

 

“What about a man of strong conviction?” Scott asks as he tries not to gag over the smell of the chicken blood, “You’ve not got one of them in there too have you?”

 

“Ha ha,” Kate grumbles before she turns a little red and says awkwardly, “I thought that could be me. You know, because I’m determined to bring him home.”

 

Scott didn’t like to point out how unlikely this was going to work considering that a) there were several layers to Xibalba, b) they had no idea where Richie was and c) they now had nothing to defend themselves with if something other than Richie popped out from the gate instead. However he still needed Kate to be realistic about this; it wouldn't do her any good thinking that Richie was just going to come strolling back through the cave wall as if nothing had happened.

 

“I’m not sure that’s gonna work Kate,” he say’s evenly as her face falls a little.

 

“Fine. Maybe we can work something else out from the notes he left," Kate conceded as she pulls out another small notebook from the depths of the backpack, "Hold the flash light up for me.”

 

As she goes to hand him the flashlight, Kate’s leg buckles and she stumbles forward. This was a stupid idea Scott thinks for the millionth time as he goes to grab her; Kate is barely even mobile. They should have waited until she was properly rested, not ran out the door the moment she was able to stand up without struggling to breath.

 

“Kate,” Scott tells her firmly as he helps her stand up properly, “Maybe you should sit down.”

 

“I don’t have time to sit down Scott!” Kate snaps angrily as she pushes him away but then her face softens and she looks stricken, “I’m sorry. But I know what it’s like to be stuck somewhere where you think nobody is going to come save you or that nobody is going to help you. I can’t do that to him, I can’t!”

 

“Ok,” Scott relents, there really is no use arguing with Kate about this, “But just take it easy would you? You’re no use to anyone if you keel over.”

 

“I’ll be careful, I promise,” Kate says earnestly, “But I have to do this!”

 

Scott sighs heavily and comes to sit down next to her; flashlight held high above her so she can see. Kate smiles gratefully at him and then goes back to Richie’s notebook. Scott really has no idea how Richie figured out what it all means; you can barely read the writing in the old books and half of it is either illegible or just full of pictures. It sends chills down Scott’s spine thinking that Richie was doing all this without knowing it would potentially be used to help rescue him from Xibalba. It was kind of like writing your own gravestone and picking your plot out before you even died. Or maybe he did know; Scott had wondered about that in the car on the way here. Maybe some part of Richie knew that the only way to save Kate was to sacrifice himself so that she and the rest of them could have a chance at life. Scott would have done it in a heart beat; he’d have thrown himself down into the darkest pits of hell if it meant his sister would be safe. In the end that wasn't the part he was meant to play in all of this; he’s meant to be up here, helping his sister and that exactly what he’s going to do. Scott can’t let Richie suffer for trying to save the only bit of family Scott has left.

 

“Ok… Maybe this can work too,” Kate murmurs as she finally stops at a random page, “This looks pretty similar to the first one.”

 

Even though he can see perfectly well in the dark he holds the flashlight over Kate’s shoulder so she can see the book better.  Kate was right; it did look an awful lot similar to the first incantation they had found or it was a recipe for eyeball stew. Kate had been trying to practice the Xibalban language in the car ride over here, using Richie’s notes to guide her, but it seemed like you needed a forked tongue to get around most of the words. Scott was even worse; his brain just wasn't built for learning stuff like this. Good old fashioned English would just have to do.

 

“Ready?” Kate is asking him all too soon as holds the book out in front of her.

 

“Yeah,” Scott says in the least convincing tone ever, “But remember what I said; first sign of trouble we bail.”

 

She nods at him but Scott isn't stupid enough to believe that she's going start running if a demon smashes through the cave wall. Knowing Kate she’ll probably pull out Richie’s mugshot and ask it if its seen him. Its too late now anyway, they are as prepared as they're ever going to be so Scott stands with the exit directly at his back, just in case they have to run for it.

 

Kate has already started dripping the chickens blood in a circle around her as she begins to chant;

 

_**Darksome night and blood soaked moon, as it is above, so it is below** _

_**Heed my sacrifice and come forth into the night,** _

_**Reveal the doorway, hidden in fire and blood** _

_**In the name of the Lords of the Nine, I command you to open!** _

_**In the name of the Lords of Blood, I order you to open!** _

 

Nothing happens; unless you count the stray rock falling from the ceiling and landing near Scotts shoe. He hadn't really expected Richie to pop right out of the ground on the first try but he’d thought that least something might have happened. Its very anticlimactic to be honest. Kate seems strangely undeterred by this and looks slightly manic as she says the incantation again, louder this time.

 

_**Darksome night and blood soaked moon, as it is above, so it is below** _

_**Heed my sacrifice and come forth into the night,** _

_**Reveal the doorway, hidden in fire and blood** _

_**In the name of the Lords of the Nine, I command you to open!** _

_**In the name of the Lords of Blood, I order you to open!** _

 

They both wait with baited breath but, again, nothing happens. Scott is starting to feel a little silly stood here in the dark whilst Kate flits between her chicken blood circle and the rock wall. She was almost considering just screaming Richie’s name into the wall but she thought Scott might begin to doubt her sanity even more than he was already.

 

“Maybe we need to be standing exactly where Richie was?” Kate says desperately as she tries to squeeze herself between two huge rocks that are blocking the rock wall from view, “Scott get …wait, do you smell that?”

 

The sudden smell of burning flesh surrounds them, for a brief horrifying moment Scott thinks its him, and something crackles and fizzes overhead like a firework. They both look up to find a little fleck of fire dancing above them. Its tiny at first, barely bigger than a fingertip, but then little by little it starts to grow bigger and bigger until it’s the size of a grown man’s head. Scott doesn’t need to be a Culebra to realise that this is not a good sign.

 

“Richie?” Kate whispers as she makes a move towards it but Scott pulls her back by her jacket.

 

“We don’t know what that is,” he hisses as he tries to push her behind him, “Get behind me!”

 

“But what if it’s Richie?!” Kate yells desperately as she tries to push past her brother, “He’ll need to know that we're here, that we came back for him!”

 

“Kate, if it was Richie you would know wouldn’t you?” Scott says as he grabs her by the forearms, “You’d know it was him. We have to leave!”

 

“NO! No, even if it’s not him he might be able to hear us!” Kate says frantically and before he can stop her, she starts screaming at the top of her lungs at the burning ball of fire, “RICHIE!! RICHIE!!”

 

“Kate Stop!” Scott yells as he tries to grab hold of her again, “Kate please, we need to leave!”

 

“What if it was me down there?” Kate cries as she pulls away again, her eyes filled with desperation and panic, “What if I got stuck down there Scott? You’d do everything you could to get me out wouldn’t you? You don’t leave people you love behind!”

 

The flaming orb is growing bigger and bigger; heat is rolling off it as it warps and twists in on itself until it finally reveals itself to be a huge skull, its eye’s pockets of blackness. Kate and Scott shrink back agains the wall in fear as it looms over them.

 

 

“THE WAY IS SHUT!” It booms in a voice like gravel scraping across the floor, “IF YOU VALUE YOUR LIFE YOU WILL COME NO FURTHER!”

 

Kate pushes her way towards it before Scott even has a chance to stop her and stands directly underneath it. The heat that hits her face is intense but it doesn't deter her.

 

“Wait! Richie’s in there,” She shouts up at it, “I NEED TO GET HIM OUT!”

 

The skull tilts is huge head towards her and, even though it has no eyes, it appears to be looking right at Kate. Flames flicker around its nostrils as it considers her.

 

“THE WAY IS SHUT, KATHERINE FULLER; SLAYER OF OUR QUEEN AMARU,” It tells her as it stares down at her, “THE WAY IS SHUT. IT WAS MADE BY THE ANCIENT XIBALBAN’S AND THE XIBALBAN’S KEEP IT. NOW YOU MUST DIE!”

 

“NO, NO WAIT!” Kate screams but it pays her no mind as it rises almost to the top of the cave, an ominous crackling sound following it as it goes. It hovers directly over her for a moment when suddenly an almighty boom shakes the whole cave, just as the skull splits itself into several balls of fire. Kate just has time to duck before it shoots out huge jets of flame that smash into the wall behind her. Whats left of the ceiling makes a loud groaning sound and dust starts to rein down on them. 

 

“KATE!” Scott screams just as the rocks beneath their feet start to tremble, “RUN!”

 

Kate is too busy trying to cram everything back into her backpack so Scott grabs her by the arm and starts to drag her towards the exit. Its highly doubtful that they'll be lucky enough to survive the cave falling in on them a second time. Kate is still desperately trying to zip the bag up when a huge slab of rock crashes to the floor behind them.

 

“I SAID RUN!” He shouts as he shoves her in front of him.

 

They flee back the way they came as a horrible, mocking laughter starts echoing all around them as they sprint back down the passageway.  Dragging themselves back up the the steep slope is a lot harder then it was  coming down it and Scott has to physically pull Kate along behind him at several points. Her legs are almost giving up on her and she stumbles and trips most of the way; her palms slicing into the dirt floor. The ceiling is getting lower and lower until finally Scott shoves Kate in front of him and they continue on on their hands and knees. They’re almost out of the cave, he can even see a small sliver of moonlight, when Scott hears it.

 

“ _JianJun_.”

 

He almost stops dead in his tracks as he hears a voice calling his name; his real name. Ahead of him Kate lets out a loud sob. 

 

 

“ _JianJunJianJunJianjunJianJunJianJunJianJunJianJunJianJunJianjunJianJunJianJunJianJunJianJunJianJunJianjunJianJunJianJunJianJunJianJunJianJunJianjunJianJunJianJun."_

 

It’s like a chant in his ears; a long forgotten voice that he never thought he’s hear again. His birth mothers voice. Maybe she wants him to go to her? The idea claws its way into his head and Scott is almost about to turn back, she's waiting for him back at the mine, he can feel it. Kate can sort her own mess out and Scott can finally have the real family he’s always been denied. Kate gives another whimper ahead of him and Scott feels the hold over him break a little. No, this isn't right. The Fullers are the ones that wanted him, they took him away from that horrible orphanage back in China. They are his family, not a disembodied voice that doesn't have the guts to show its face. He pushes Kate on ahead as they crawl their way back through the tunnel where, thankfully, the voices seem to fade the closer to freedom they get.  After what seems like an eternity, they're back out in the fresh air; free from the strange voices and the dusty dead air. Kate slumps on the ground as she tries to catch her breath; her hair is filthy once again and her palms are pretty cut up but she doesn't look half as bad as she did the first time Scott had to drag her out of there. He drops down next to her and tries to get the ringing voice out of his head; it wasn't real he keeps telling himself as the last little whisper disappears from his head. Kate is the first to move as she starts digging through the backpack to make sure she picked everything up.

 

“No!!” she screams franticly as she tips the whole bag upside down, scattering the contents all over the floor, “No, where is it? WHERE IS IT?!”

 

“Where’s what?” Scott asks as props himself up on his elbows; dust seems to have embedded itself into his nostrils and he sneezes violently.

 

“Richie’s notebook! It was right here!” Kate cries as she shakes out the backpack, “I must have left it behind!”

 

“Kate,” Scott says gently as he tries to make her see reason.

 

“We have to go back!” Kate shouts as she leaps to her feet and pushes her dirty hair out of her face, “We need to go back and get it!”

 

KATE!” Scott yells just as Kate starts to turn back towards the mine.

 

“WHAT?!” she screams back at him; her face one of anger and despair, “I’m not leaving without it Scott!”

 

He pulls out the small leather-bound book from his jacket and hands it to her; he had managed to grab it just before they had to run for their lives. Kate all but snatches it out of his hands and hugs it close to her chest. It doesn't take Dr Phil to figure out the reasoning behind it; losing something of Richie’s would be like losing him all over again in Kate’s mind.

 

“Come on lets head back,” Scott says as he starts picking up all the stuff Kate had thrown on the floor, “We can decide on plan B once we get back.”

 

“But we’ve only just got here!” Kate complains, “Maybe we could try again, I know there’s something in here that will help!”

 

“That skull thing was pretty adamant that we wouldn't be getting through,” Scott tells her as he picks up there discarded jackets from earlier, “We should leave while we still can.”

 

“But we could ask it!” Kate says desperately, “We could try again and see if we can reason with it.”

 

“Kate, we cant do anything else; we probably cant even get back inside the mine now,” Scott tells her firmly as he hands her the bag, “We’ll go back, think of something else and then we can come back properly prepared ok?”

 

Kate looks like she’s about to argue with him again but even she can see that they need to come up with something better than talking nicely to a flaming skull that had just tried to kill them. 

 

“Fine,” Kate says dejectedly as she casts a long look back at the mine, “We can go back and regroup, I’ll go through the books again, see if I missed something.”

 

“Good,” Scott says, “Come on, the sooner we leave the sooner we can come back.”

 

Kate reluctantly follows him back down the trail to the car; even she can see that they were woefully unprepared for what just happened. They're no use to anyone if they get crushed to death inside the mine shaft or burnt to cinders by a ball of fire with a grudge. They have to run the last few miles as Scott can already feel the sun prickling at his heels; Kate gulping down air as she staggers along. It takes her a while to get her breath back once they’re safely inside the car and she clutches her hands agains the stitch in her side. They’re both filthy and Burt’s truck gets another coating of dust and grime to add the all the other layers that they tracked in on their first ride out of here. Next time they’ll be more prepared Scott promises himself; he can dig out his face mask and they can park the truck closer to the mine shaft as it didn't seem like any of Amaru’s minions had stuck around. Oh, and weapons. Weapons would be good this time. Soon the dusty little town is just a reflection in the wing mirror and Scott is more than happy to see it go.

 

Next to him, Kate has been talking a mile a minute ever since she got her breath back which Scott is taking a as a good sign. She seems to be coming back to her old self, little by little, or as close to that as she’s ever going to get. It does worry him that Kate is starting to pin all her hopes on the idea that they would just get Richie back straight away. So far they were batting zero with just the pair of them; they were just two kids caught up in someone else's mess. The Fuller’s hadn't brought their children up to abandon a situation because the going got too tough or the road too hard to walk; Scott and Kate were in this for the long haul. Everyone else had turned tail and ran though so they were the best that Richie had. Scott glances over at Kate who has already pulled the book back out and is balancing it on her lap.

 

“…. or I read it wrong,” she rants as she skims through the ancient Xibalban text, “We’ll just have to keep looking; there’s loads more books that we haven't even touched yet. There must be some other way, there has to be.”

 

 “Don’t worry Sis,” Scott tells her as he takes the turning that will lead them straight back to the compound, “We’ll find something.”

 

Kate is silent for a while before she speaks again; Scott had almost thought she’d fallen asleep or something.

 

“Did you hear it?” she says quietly, as if she’s afraid it will hear her, “The whispering inside your head?”

 

Scott can only nod; he hadn't even began to wrap his head around what he had just heard.

 

“I head,” Kate pauses as she compose herself before she can continue, “I heard Mom and Daddy. They said horrible things to me. And then at the end it was just screaming. I think that was him, I think that was Richie.”

 

Scott glances at his sister for a second; there are tears trailing silently down her face. After hearing all that he’s glad it was just his birth mothers voice he heard; he barely remembered her, she wasn't his family like the Fuller’s were. He doesn't know what he would have done if he’d heard his Mom or his Dad’s voice instead.

 

“Do you think thats what its like down there?” Kate whispers as she turns towards him, “To be forced to hear all the things that scare you or all the bad stuff thats happened to you?”

 

Scott knows better than to lie to her. Burt had told him that some Culebra’s are so terrified of Xibalba that they only refer to it by its nickname; The Place of Fear. It didn't exactly sound like Richie was going to be drinking Pina Coladas by the pool.

 

“Yeah, I think so,” he admits, “I think that’s how they get into your head, make you do stuff you wouldn't normally do.”

 

Kate nods to herself as she closes up the book and rests her hands on top of it. She keeps picking at her fingernails, an old habit that not even Amaru could take from her apparently. 

 

“Seth told me a bit about how their dad treated them when they were kids,” Kate says quietly, “He used to hit them and call them horrible names and stuff.”

 

She’s paraphrasing when she tells Scott this. The story that Seth had told her about his dad had made her heart ache for the pair of them; how Ray Gecko had held Richie’s head underwater in the bathtub until Seth was able to reassemble a gun with perfect precision. Every time he messed up Ray would hold Richie’s head underwater for longer and longer until Seth was finally able to do. It had been a teaching tool, Seth had told her bitterly as he proceeded to drink heavily into the night. His mood had taken on a dark turn and he ignored her when she tried to get him to stop drinking. Then the anger had radiated off him as the alcohol brought other painful memories to the forefront of his mind; he’d scared Kate so much she’d slept in the bathroom with the door locked.

 

“Well that makes sense,” Scott continues as he turns of the interstate, “They’re not exactly well adjusted people are they?”

 

“No,” Kate agrees, “But I think I understand them a little better. You can’t live like that and expect to come out of it unscathed.”

 

She’s not going to tell Scott about what Seth had shared with her; it’s too personal and ultimately not her story to tell but she hopes that Scott can find his own way to forgive the Gecko Brothers. Neither of them really knew what was waiting for them at the Titty Twister and deep down she could see that they hadn't meant the Fuller Family any harm. 

 

“So thats why Seth pretends to be Mr Macho and Richie doesn't know how to talk to people without sounding like a weirdo?” Scott asks her.

 

“He’s not weird,” Kate scolds before she adds much more quietly, “He could talk to me.” 

 

“Yeah but your weird too,” Scott jokes which earns him an eye roll from Kate.

 

“He let me see him though,” Kate says quietly, more to herself than to her brother, “Even though he built a wall so high around himself I was able to see right over the top. Sometimes I think… sometimes I think he’s exactly like me.”

 

“That’s what I said,” Scott says, “You’re a weirdo.”

 

Kate swats him playful on the arm before she starts picking her fingernails again. Scott had been in out in the world whilst she’d been stuck inside her own head for months; Kate was desperate to know everything that had happened whilst she wasn't there. She had grilled Scott about every movement of his life since she “died” whilst they had been getting ready to head back to the mine. When she learnt about his old band, Kate had been ecstatic and demanded to listen to his music the moment they returned. He had done exactly what she had asked of him and made something positive out of his life; something good had finally come from this. Even though she had been completely wrapped up in what her brother had been up to, the childish part of her had been itching to ask about if Richie had mentioned her at all. It was silly and childish but the younger Gecko kept everything bottled up so tightly it was hard to know what he was thinking. It seems silly now because his words, and that kiss, back at the mine shaft showed her exactly how he felt about her, but Kate still wondered if Richie had talked about her, if he’d asked him questions about her. She even wanted to know the mundane stuff like what he’d done with his day or if he ever wore anything other than that black suit. It was like a hunger that wouldn't die not matter how much she fed it. 

 

When Amaru had been inside Richie’s head she had blocked Kate from trying to reach him, but little flashes from him had still flickered through. It was more like she’d been holding onto broken bits of glass and she’d tried so hard to try and fit the pieces back together for him, but it was too late. Amaru had twisted herself into his head like a corkscrew and Kate had been forced to watch whilst the damage played out before her. She glances at Scott before she takes the plunge and asks

 

“Did Richie ever ask about me?” Kate asks as nonchalantly as she can, “I mean did he talk to you about me?” 

 

Scott lets out a loud laugh as Kate frowns at him in annoyance; she didn't think her question was very funny.

 

“Are you kidding me?” Scott says incredulously once he’s stopped laughing, “He never shut up about you. It was kind of annoying actually.”

 

Kate doesn't need to know that Scott and Richie used to meet in secret to discuss how to help Kate; Seth was adamant that they should just put her out of her misery. Thats when Richie’s endless rounds of questions had started.

 

“Did you know that Richie,” Kate forges on as she blushes bright red, “You know, how he felt?

 

Scott rolls his eyes like she’s just asked the most dumbest question ever.

 

“Yeah I mean it was pretty obvious,” he says, “Even before… you know, when you weren't you.”

 

Kate smiles sadly to herself as she tries not to think about what could have been if Amaru hadn't had to play one last little game. 

 

“I gotta admit,” Scott teases, “I thought you liked Seth. I mean you did leave with him for three months to do god knows what.”

 

Kate turns her nose up as she begins to get annoyed. She’d been more than a little hurt when Richie had accused her of running off with Seth, let alone her own brother. 

 

“I only went with him," she says crossly before she collects herself, "I just thought that, eventually, we’d find out way back to you and Richie. You know, that Seth would cool off and we could come find you guys. I didn't expect… Well let’s just say I didn't expect a lot of things to turn out the way they did,” Kate mumbles as she picks the skin around her fingernails, “I wasn't a very nice person when I was with him.”

 

“I still can’t believe you went off on a crime spree,” Scott says with mock seriousness, “You’re supposed to be the good one Kate.”

 

His tone earns him a scowl from his sister as she sits back in her seat and crosses her arms. 

 

“It was hardly a crime spree,” Kate huffs, “More like being dragged from pillar to post ever five minutes.”

 

“Well, clearly you’re not cut out for a life of crime,” Scott says, “I can’t imagine you ever pointing a gun in peoples faces and holding up a bank.”

 

“Of course I wouldn't do that!” Kate snaps, “That’s a terrible thing to do to someone.”

 

“Well,” Scott shrugs as he turns onto the dirt track that leads back to the Gecko’s compound, “It seems like they've done some pretty bad shit in their time.”

 

They drive in silence for a while as Kate ponders on Scotts words. Seth had given her a rundown of every job he and his brother had ever pulled and she had to admit that they never actually hurt anybody. They only ever took money; mostly form people who didn't need it Seth had told her, like he was Robin Hood or something. Nobody ever got hurt, Seth got some cash to put towards his beach dream and Richie got to prove just how much smarter he was then anybody else. It was only that last job where it all went South. “I knew something wasn't right” Seth had mumbled drunkenly to her one night and Kate knew he was talking about Richie, even though he never even spoke his brothers name the whole time they were together. 

 

“Richie’s not a bad person. He’s just a little lost and he was going through a lot before he even got to us,” Kate says softly, she’d seen enough inside Richie’s head to know that, “I don’t think he or Seth meant for anything bad to happen to us. But then he left with her and…,” Kate trails off sadly.

 

“Do you want my opinion?” Scott asks her and Kate raises her eyebrow at him.

 

“I don’t think her really wanted to go with her,” he reasons whilst Kate stares at him, “And I'm not just saying that because I'm your brother. Santanico screwed with Richie’s brain so much that I don’t think he knew if he was coming or going.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“You know when we were in the RV and he kept freaking out?” Scott asks her as Kate nods at the memory, “That was all her. But him leaving… well I get it. I didn't want to go with you either.”

 

“But why though?” Kate bursts out in frustration, “Why wouldn't you want to come with us? We’re a family!”

 

“Because of what happened to me! To him!” Scott snaps as he brings his fist down on the dashboard in anger, “Kate, my entire life changed in the space a few a seconds. I mean, I’m technically dead! This change… this thing inside me. It was a lot to deal with and I would have killed you if you’d stayed with me. I’m sorry but its true, you know its true. You shouldn't have to have been exposed to a monster like me.”

 

“YOU ARE NOT A MONSTER!!” Kate shouts so loudly in his face that Scott almost swerves off the road, “I’m going to keep telling you that until you believe me!”

 

“Ok, Ok!” Scott concedes as he gets the car under control, “I’m just trying to get you to understand what it was like for me back then.”

 

“Do you think… do you think that’s why Richie left too?” Kate questions, “Because he was scared?”

 

“I think so,” Scott agrees before he caries on, “He was telling me a bit about Santanico, when he wasn’t bugging me with questions about you all the time, stuff like she’d been in his head for years.”

 

“That sounds scary,” Kate says as she shivers in spite of herself, a few months with Amaru had been bad enough, but years?

 

“I heard she beat the shit out of him, after she was done messing around with his brain,” Scott says as he shakes his head, “No wonder she couldn't be bothered to help us.”

 

Kate turns and stares sadly out of the window. Every new little piece of information that she found out about Richie made her ache to hold him, to give him the love he clearly craved so desperately from other people. As soon as his hand had brushed hers and she’d looked into those dark blue eyes, Kate had seen that Richie had such a good soul. It was just little battered and broken but still there, hiding just below the surface. What she wouldn't give just to be able to tell him that he’ll be all right, thats she’s find him not matter what the odds.

 

Scott is already pulling up outside the main entrance leading into the compound whilst Kate is still lost in thought; her head resting agains the window. He jumps out and untangles the rope that he used to close the gate with and pulls it back just enough to let the truck through. They hadn't had any night time visitors whilst they had been gone which was at least one good outcome from today. 

 

“Kate?” He calls as his sister raises her head up to look at him, “Slide over and drive it through the gate.”

 

Kate is a terrible driver but Scott thinks that even she should manage to go a few feet in a straight line. Once she’s cleared the wire fencing, he shuts the gate and shackles it shut again. The compound still looks exactly how they left it; also a good sign but Scott still needs to figure out all the security settings the Gecko’s used on the building. It was so much easier when they were working as a group; all he had to worry about was perfecting his fighting skills and helping out wherever he could. Now it’s just him and Kate, Scott is feeling a little unsure of what their next move is going to be. He’s not a planner like the Geckos; all he wants to do is help his sister and try and keep her safe. They need a gun or a some more weapons of some sort; both of which he has no idea where he’s going to find them. Maybe he could steal one from a nearby towns but until then, they’ve going to have to stick with barricading themselves in together in Richie’s old room.

 

Kate’s is almost halfway out of the truck when a stray scent wafts across Scott’s nose. Shit! Quicker than lightning, he grabs her by the arm and pulls her towards him. Something doesn't feel right.

 

“Ouch! Scott, that hurt!” Kate complains but Scott cuts her off and puts his finger to his lips. 

 

Kate’s eyes go wide with fright; she can’t hear anything except the gentle nights breeze but Scott is staring fixedly out into the darkness. The smell is gone as quickly as it came and the only thing he can hear is the loud, frantic thumping of Kate’s heart.

 

“We need to be careful, anybody could be out here,” he whispers as he starts to push her towards the door, “Get inside and stay there.”

 

“But,”

 

“I SAID INSIDE KATE!” Scott shouts before he mentally slaps himself; anybody could have heard that!

 

Kate huffs and reluctantly retreats inside the compound and shuts the door firmly behind her. They don’t have time to be hanging around for some mystery late night visitor, they need to figure out another way to help Richie. She plonks herself down on the floor near the door and, ignoring the deep ache that runs through her entire body, pulls out Richie’s notebook again. Clearly the first incantation she tried had not been the right one but there must be something else, something that they hadn't previously considered. Richie’s had writing is so small and its hard to read it in the dark, in the end Kate has to hold it almost in front of her nose. She could switch the light on but she doesn't fancy staring at the grisly mess the previous occupants had left behind. Most of what she’s reading doesn't make any sense to her as she flicks through the pages and her eyes quickly begin to get tired. Kate’s almost considering putting the light on when she catches sight of the world “Xibalba” written near the bottom of the page.

 

_“The Milky Way was also considered an entrance to Xibalba and the road along which souls walked to meet their fate….”_

 

Great; now they needed to find themselves a spaceship as well. Her fingers trace across the perfectly precise letters, so unlike her own messy scrawl, and she smiles sadly to herself. She can just imagine Richie pouring over all those dusty old books that nobody else could make neither head nor tail out of, learning an ancient language and the meaning of long forgotten symbols. Kate skims through the rest of the pages but that’s the only reference to Xibalba that she’s able to find. The rest is either all to do with Amaru, which Kate can’t even bring herself to read yet, or about bodily possessions and how to preserve a possessed persons soul. It almost scares her at the lengths that Richie was willing to go to try and help her. There’s at least ten pages dedicated to soul preservation and a row of numbers circled in red at the bottom; Kate has no idea what that even means. She would never admit this to Scott, but she had been so afraid that she would be stuck inside Amaru forever; that she would be cursed to live inside her own body and never get out. Even if they had killed her before Amaru regained her true form, what would have become of her? What would have become of her soul? Would she have been lost in the dark pits of Xibalba or driven to some other dark and hellish place? Richie had gone above and beyond anything she had ever expected anybody to do for her. She would have gladly gone to Xibalba herself if it meant that no harm would come to anyone else, and it frustrates her that she can’t seem to be able to do the same for him. What happened in the cave is still very blurry but it’s coming back to her; in little bits and pieces. Something about a light and gentle words whispered in her ear but that’s as far as she can get to. If she thinks any harder her head starts to ache uncontrollably. Sometimes she can still feel the weight of his hand wrapped around hers and the feel of his lips pressed against hers… 

 

Kate’s so lost in thought that she almost doesn't hear the sound of something creaking up ahead. Almost, but not quite. Within seconds she’s sat bolt upright; her heart hammering in her chest as she strains her ears to listen. Nothing but silence surrounds her, maybe she’s just being paranoid? Her whole body has been coiled with tension ever since she left the mine; Amaru might be dead but she’s never very far from Kate’s mind. Who’s to say she won’t wake up one day and find herself trapped down in the very depths of her own mind? The only person that could save her this time is gone and it’s looking increasingly hopeless that they’re ever going to get him back. Kate slams the book shut as tears prickle at the corner of her eyes and she brushes them away angrily. No, she scolds herself. She won’t do this, not now; she can cry and have a break down later. Tears won’t help Richie. Kate pulls herself to her feet and stretches; her body making a loud groan of protest. Maybe she just need to walk around for a little bit just to wake herself up, plus she's starting to get hungry again. She’s almost fully healed now and even the earlier scrapes to her palms are nothing more then feint red marks. It would be a lie to say she wasn't a little bit concerned about that but she had yet to start craving blood or be able to bench press her own body weight so Kate’s just going shelve it away for later. 

 

She’s halfway towards the kitchen area when a loud crash sends her jumping into the air with fright. Ok, maybe there is something in here with her after all but it’s not Amaru Kate tells herself. It can’t be her; the rotting lumps of skin she picked out from underneath her finger nails should attest to that. Maybe it’s Scott? But surely he would have warned her? Or come back through the front door? Her breath begins to quicken as panic starts to take over her; there’s something, or someone, else thats lurking down the end of that dark corridor. Scott told her to stay put but Kate can’t help herself; what if its Seth come back to help them? Or… or it could be Richie she thinks wildly. Maybe they did manage to get him out and he'd followed them home? They didn't really wait around long enough to find out, they'd just ran all the way back here like two scared little children. Dammit; they should have checked properly before they left the mine. Richie could be waiting for her right now. There’s another loud thud and the sound of a door banging open; it sounds like it’s coming from Richie’s bedroom. Kate’s feet are already moving as she creeps quietly down the hallway, trying not to step on bits of broken glass or skid over on the blood stains as she goes. 

 

It’s definitely coming from Richie’s bedroom; she can hear the bedside draws being pulled opened and then more heavy bangs. Kate keeps herself close to the wall as she inches further along in the darkness. Her eyesight is nowhere near as good as Scotts but the she’s been getting pretty good at telling where she’s going. A beam of torch light unexpectedly shines out form the open door and Kate flattens herself agains the wall. It vanishes almost as quickly as it came and Kate lets out the breath she didn't realise she had been holding. A big neon sign is blaring in her head telling her she should wait for Scott to return, but Kate just can’t help herself as she tiptoes further forward. If it is Richie, he might not know they're even here; he could be trying to find out where Kate and Scott had gone or he could be hurt. Kate almost calls out Richie’s name but ultimately thinks the better of it, she’s still not one hundred percent its him even though her entire body is hoping desperately that it is. She’s almost at the threshold of the doorway so theres no turning back now. Scott can be pissed off with her later; she has to see for herself if its Richie or not.

 

Richie’s bedroom is engulfed in darkness but even Kate can make out the dark hulking figure standing with its back to her, as she creeps through the doorway. Its hunched over the bed and tearing through the pile of books that Kate had put aside to read later on. It’s too tall for Seth or Scott and a little piece inside her breaks when she realises it’s too wide to be Richie. However Kate’s disappointment quickly turns to anger as, whatever that thing is, starts manhandling all of Richie’s stuff and throwing it carelessly to one side like it was trash. All of the anger Kate has kept bottled up inside her for the past few days starts to bubble to the surface and her nails dig into her palms as she clenches her fists. Richie’s barely been gone five minutes and this _thing_ is already stealing his stuff! Her eyes fall on Scotts sword that he carelessly left behind on the nightstand; it would only take a second for her to snatch it up. The would-be-theif still hasn't spotted her yet, and a red rage crawls all over her as it starts ripping pages out of one of Richie’s notebooks. Before Kate even realises it, Scott’s sword is gripped tightly in her hand, the blade glinting in the darkness. The figure abruptly stops whats it doing, trampling the book on the floor careless under its feet as it goes, as it slowly starts to turn towards her. Kate lets out a huge roar of fury; the sword held out straight in front of her as she charges forward. 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

The sword slides through the intruder like a hot knife through butter, and Kate is momentarily surprised at just how easily it cuts though the fleshy abdomen in front of her. The surprise doesn't last for too long though, there’s a horrible wet sucking sound and she’s pulled even further forward as her as the assailant stumbles backwards. Blood splatters all over her hands as she struggles to hang onto the sword and stay upright at the same time; whatever she hit is clearly very angry. An angry roar rings in her ears and a large hand catches her shoulder, shoving her backwards so hard that she almost lets go and looses her footing. In the end, Kate can’t compete with the force behind the push and her fingers slide off the sticky sword handle and she goes skidding into the wall. Her head bounces against the concrete, the pain barely registering, and a huge figure looms over her just before she blacks out. 

 

“OWWW! JESUS CHRIST LADY; ARE YOU CRAZY?!”

 

The voice is loud and obnoxious; it felt like Kate’s whole head was vibrating from the noise as she slowly regained consciousness. It can’t have been a more than a few minutes that she was unconscious for and the back of her head is damp with blood when she touches it. Even though her head had hit the wall pretty hard, even in her dazed state, she’d recognise that slimy voice anywhere. There’s more grunts and groans from the other side of the room as Kate struggles to her feet and gropes around on the wall for the light switch. After being in the dark for so long the brightness of the lights is almost blinding and Kate has to shut her eyes for a while to allow herself time to get used to it. Still squinting, she turns around and faces the intruder; her back pressed tightly against the wall.

 

It was Dr Tanner; Kate’s sword was sticking straight through his stomach like a weird popsicle stick. There’s a horrible squelching sound as he twists around, almost comically, and tries to pull the sword out. Kate offers no help and remains poised in position by as Tanners blood starts to seep into Richie’s carpet. What on earth is he doing _here_? Neither she nor Scott had really given much of a second thought to him when they had hightailed it away from the mine. Looking for the perverted professor hadn't exactly been high on their list of priorities at the time, and Dr Tanner was somewhere near the bottom of Kate’s list of people she wanted to be reunited with. She was already starting to wish that she had pushed the blade in harder, after all the last time they met he had tied her to a pole and attempted to preform a botched exorcism on her. Tanner doesn't seem all that phased by Kate’s lack of enthusiasm though, in fact he seems almost jovial as he attempts to pull the sword out again.

 

“Just give me a sec here honey,” he drawls as he tries to turn around and drips yet more blood onto the floor.

 

Kate isn't sure how to take this; for past few months people have either been running away in terror at the sight of her or trying to kill her. No, not her, she corrects herself, it was was Amaru they were after. It still doesn't make her feel any better knowing that Tanner is clearly happy to see her; one of the last things that Kate had been witness to under Amaru’s thrall was Tanner’s eyes, burning red as Amaru took hold of his mind. Now that the Queen is dead its unlikely that he is still affected but she doesn’t like the smile on his face as he looks at her. The room isn't that large and from her position, Kate could probably make it to the door; he’d probably catch her all the same but at least she would have tried.

 

“You know that shit still hurts!” Tanner wines as he grips the sword handle with both hands and yanks it hard, “Shit; it’s gone right through the other side as well!”

 

“What are you…” she starts to ask but before she can finish, Tanner seizes the sword with both hands, pulls, and sends blood splattering all over Kate’s face.

 

“Whoops,” he laughs as Kate stands there, horrified, and spits out a mouthful of Tanner’s blood, “Caught you a little bit there didn't I? Don’t know my own strength these days!”

 

Trembling slightly, Kate attempts to wipe the blood of her face but ends up smearing it in with all the other grime she picked up from her earlier exploits. At this point in time she should probably just give up on her appearance and accept the fact that she is going to be filthy for ninety percent of the time.

 

“Got some on your nice carpet too,” Tanner is saying as bits of entrails spill out of him and onto the floor.

 

The smell is revolting and Kate tries not to retch as Tanner flicks away a few stray bits of flesh off his leather jacket. 

 

“Ruined my new shirt,” he mutters as he tears a strip off the bottom of his shirt and binds the wound, “You know, this is gonna take ages to heal!”

 

Kate remains glued against the wall as Tanner sets about making a big fuss about the hole in his stomach. She’s still not entirely sure whats going on or why he’s even here. Before she has a chance to try and put the thoughts together in her head, Tanner is staring fixedly at her; his eyes roaming over her with a hint of uncertainty in them. 

 

“Wait a second,” he says cautiously as he takes a step backwards and squares his shoulders against her, “It is just in there isn't it? You’re not still shacked up with the Queen Bee are you?”

 

“No,” Kate says and Tanner lets out a massive sigh of relief.

 

“Oh thank God,” he says, as he starts smiling at her again, “You almost had me going for a second there. Well, it was nice seeing you again Kate but I best be on my way.”

 

He turns away from Kate, like she is completely insignificant to him now Amaru isn't carting her about like luggage, and grabs one of the pillowcases off the bed. Then he moves around the room and starts to stuff a large portion of Richie’s notebooks, bits of paper and a selection of the old books into the empty pillowcase. Once he’s satisfied he’s got everything he needs, he heads towards the door only to find Kate standing in front of it, blocking his way.

 

“Huh,” he says in surprise before he grins at her, “You want me to take you with me as well?”

 

Kate scowls at him, folds her arms across her chest and remains planted in the doorway. Tanner doesn't scare her; he’s a coward through and through. There are far greater things in this world to be frightened of and Kate has had to learn that the hard way. Whilst she’s not sure would actually kill him, there’s no way she is just going to let him waltz out of here with Richie’s personal property. There’s already smears of blood covering the perfectly written pages of Richie’s notebooks and some of the books Tanner has cast aside have had the covers bent out of shape. 

 

“You can leave if you want,” Kate says bluntly as Tanner makes his way towards her, “But you’re not taking Richie’s stuff.”

 

“Whose going to stop me Honey?” he chuckles as he gives her a very disparaging look, “You?”

 

“If I have to,” Kate says, she’s feeling bolder by the minute as lifts her chin up and stares him down, “Now I’ll say it again; put them back.”

 

Tanner bursts out laughing; he even bends over and slaps his leg at the thought of tiny little Kate being able to stop him from taking what he wants. Kate still doesn't give an inch, she’ll stand here all day if she has to, as she waits for him to stop laughing at her.

 

“Well as fun as that may be to watch,” Tanner chuckles, as he wipes the tears of mirth from his eyes, “I really do have to get going now.”

 

He moves so fast that Kate doesn't even have a chance to react as he lunges towards her.

 

“GET OFF ME!” Kate screams as he grabs her by the elbow and pushes her roughly to one side. It’s only when Kate finds herself being so easily manoeuvred out of the way, that she realises just how much stronger Tanner is than her; he could snap her neck in two without even breaking a sweat. Strength or no strength, she’s not just going to stand there and do nothing whilst Tanner pushes her about like she was nothing. One of the good things about having tiny hands is that you can fir them through almost anything; and Kate is easily able to pull her wrist free from Tanner huge hand. Before he has a chance to grab her again, she ducks underneath his arm and blocks his path once again.

 

“Give it up girlie,” Tanner grumbles as he reaches for her again, “I don’t want to have to hurt you.”

 

Kate smacks his hand away from her and instead of running away, she rams her shoulder against his chest and tries to force him back into the room. She may as well have thrown herself against a brick wall for all the good it does and Tanner just stands there, looking mildly annoyed, as he sets down the pillow case so he can have both hands free. When it becomes obvious that she’s not going to be able to shift him, Kate tries a different tact and starts kicking and punching every bit of him she can reach.

 

“All right,” Tanner yells as he catches hold of one of her flailing wrists, “Enough of this.”

 

In one swift movement he grabs Kate around the waist and slings her easily over his shoulder, careful to avoid her wildly kicking feet.  

 

 

“HEY!!” Kate protests as she tries to pry his hands away from her, “PUT ME DOWN!!”

 

Tanner ignores her, even when she starts battering him on the back with her fists, and starts to carry her back towards the bed.

 

“YOU CAN’T TAKE RICHIE’S STUFF,” Kate raged as she tried to hit him in the back of the head again, “WE NEED THOSE TO FIND HIM; YOU CAN’T TAKE THEM!”

 

“I heard you the first time honey,” Tanner drawls as he dumps her down on the bed like a sack of potatoes, “Now you stay put, I wouldn't want to mark up that pretty face of yours.”

 

Kate is ready for him this time and before he can push her back onto the bed, she slams the heel of her shoe down onto his foot and then brings her knee up into his groin. Tanner might be a Culebra, but a kick in the balls still hurts like hell, and he sinks to his knees, moaning in pain. 

 

“Not fair,” he grunts as Kate pushes past him and snatches up the pillowcase full of books from the floor.

 

“LEAVE,” Kate demands as she clutches the books close to her chest, “GET OUT OF HERE NOW!”

 

“Not with out what I came all the way out to this dump for,” Tanner snaps as he eyes the precious cargo clutched in Kate’s hands, “You don’t even know what you’ve got there.”

 

Then he charges her like a bull, all hot air and impatience, but Kate is starting to get the measure of him now. He’s almost on top of her when she pivots to the left and sends him crashing into the chest of draws. Tanner lays there, cursing amongst the shattered bits of wood, whilst Kate snatches up the pillowcase and sprints towards the open door. Freedom is almost within her grasp when something catches the back of her sweater and she’s yanked backwards onto the floor. The wind is completely knocked out of her and she struggles for breath as Tanner stands over her, fangs on full display, snarling at her as he reaches down to take the books from her. 

 

“I told you,” he hisses at her as he tries to pry her fingers away from the heavy pillowcase, “I’m taking these with me!”

 

“ _No_ ,” Kate pants as she clings onto his arm like a Koala Bear, “You’re not!”

 

Tanner curses profanely at her and starts to try and drag the the pillowcase away but Kate swings her legs up, and wraps them around the bag.

 

“What is wrong with you lady?!” Tanner grunts as he tries to shake her loose whilst she dangles in the air in front of him.

 

Clearly he hadn't reckoned with just how determined Kate was going to be about keeping Richie’s stuff safe. There’s no way she’s just going to let him walk out of here without putting up one hell of a fight.

 

“I told you,” Kate spits as she tightens the grip of her legs around his arm, “You are not taking Richie’s stuff!!”

 

“Look, why don’t we… AGGGHHHH!” Tanner screams out in pain as Kate sinks her teeth into the back of his hand. She hadn't wanted to have a mouthful of his blood agin but it has the desired effect, as Tanner drops her and the books to cradle his injured hand. Pain explodes in her knee as it collides with the floor but Kate is already struggling back up on to her feet. They both face each other, panting wildly and each trying to figure out what the next ones move will be, before Tanner rushes at her again.

 

They tussle back and forth over the books as Kate holds onto them with all the strength she has; even when Tanner starts to drag her towards him again she still doesn't let go. 

 

“Look lady,” Tanner pants as he holds onto his end like they're playing a game of tug-of-war, “I’ve spent years looking for these books and now, thanks to our dearly departed friend, I’m finally getting my hands on them.”

 

“I said you can’t have them!” Kate snarls as she buries her fingers into the fabric of the bag, “We need them to get into Xibalba. NOW LET GO!”

 

Surprisingly, Tanner complies with her wishes and lets go of the bag, sending Kate flying backwards. The backs of her knees hit the edge of the bed and she lands heavily on top of it; she’s still managed to keep a hold of the the books though.

 

“You’re actually going to try and get into Xibalba?” Tanner asks her in disbelieve as Kate struggles to sit her self upright, “You? Little Miss Goody Two Shoes?”

 

He looks her up and down in a very patronising way and Kate is finding herself increasingly annoyed by his attitude. Of course she would be going to down into Xibalba to get Richie; whats so surprising about that? Wasn’t she the one that had torn Amaru into pieces with her bare hands?  That’s more than the great “Sex Machine” ever managed to do and whilst Kate might not be a fighter or a warrior, she’s a damn sight braver then he’ll ever be. 

 

“It’s not _just_ me,” she informs him as she finally pulls herself to her feet, “Scott’s helping me.”

 

Dr Tanner throws his head back and crows with laughter at her; Kate is beginning to wish more and more that Richie had hit him harder with his car. Then she has to wait a full two minutes before he finally stops laughing; he really is a very irritating man. 

 

“Well this I gotta see,” he says as he grins at her, “All right; I’m in.”

 

Kate stares at him in confusion; this was not what she was expecting at all. Another fight over Richie’s stuff was more what she had in mind or Tanner trying to take a bite out of her neck.  

 

“You mean you’ll help us get Richie back?” she asks hopefully as Tanner starts to look bizarrely excited. 

 

“Hell yeah if it means I get to see inside the belly of the beast,” he exclaims, as he practically hops up and down with excitement, “Xibalba’s like the mothership for me, what I wouldn't give to see her in all her glory.”

 

He stares off looking wistful, not exactly what Kate’s first thought would have been if she had invited herself along on a trip to a place that was essentially seven layers of hellish torment. Through Amaru she had seen bits and pieces of what awaited those who entered Xibalba and it had terrified her. However, Dr Tanner looks raring to go and it wasn't like anybody else was queuing up to help her. She’s still wary though, after all, it was Tanner who tried to frame Richie for all those High Way murders, attempted to sacrifice her and was generally, a massive pervert. 

 

“Ok,” she says, choosing her words carefully, “You can help but you have to do what I say when I say it.”

 

Fine,” he agrees a little too easily, “But I get to keep the books after we find you’re boyfriend.”

 

Kate pauses for a second; she wasn't so sure it was a good idea to just let him walk away with all that knowledge but what choice did she have? It would be good to have him onboard to help with the book stuff, as it was safe to say that neither her or Scott have had much luck so far. She still wasn't about to just let him wander off with Richie’s property though.

 

“When Richie is safe, and only when he is safe, then you can have the books,” she barters with him, “Deal?”

 

“Deal,” Tanner agrees as he shakes her roughly with his bloodstained hand. 

 

Kate quickly wipes her own hand on the back of her jeans whilst Tanner is busy pulling his shirt up to check on his wound. It’s torn open again and she can see the gapping hole where her sword had once been. The sight of blood and guts is starting not to bother her, as Tanner picks out a big hunk of flesh, and she’s not sure if that’s a good thing or not. She leaves Tanner to sort himself out and turns her attention to her own injuries; her head is throbbing and theres blood matted into the back of her hair. Winching slightly as she stands up, her knee is pretty messed up as well, Kate catches sight of herself in the mirror and discovers that, once again, she looks like a murder victim. Right now she’d give anything for a hot bath and to wash her hair with some decent shampoo.

 

“So where’s Big Brother Gecko then?” Tanner asks as he looks around at Richie’s bedroom, like he’s expecting Seth to pop out from behind the closet, “I would have thought this little jaunt would have his bossy, over bearing finger prints all over it.”

 

“He.. he uhh.. left,” Kate mutters quietly as she turns away from him and sets the books back down carefully into their pre arranged piles, “I don't know where he is.”

 

Tanner stares at her curiously, clearly waiting for more information, but Kate ignores him and continues to put Richie’s books away. He had almost made off with what she had discovered was Richie’s personal diary which she carefully tucked down the front of her sweater when he wasn't looking. She hadn't read it; she’d had enough of Scott snooping though her own diary as a kid to know what an invasion of privacy it was.

 

“Really?” Tanner says in surprise, “I thought those two were a package deal.”

 

“So did I,” Kate says bitterly as the memory of Seth just walking away and turning his back on her, on Richie blossoms to the surface of her mind, “Apparently Seth is just willing to walk away from Richie, that’s not something I’m prepared to do.”

 

“So you and Richie huh?” Tanner smirks at her as Kate holds his gaze and tries not to blush, “Man, its like Twilight come to life. Except he’s stuck in the very worst version of Hell’s asshole and you’re up here, with me.” 

 

He’s looking at her in what he clearly thinks is a sexy way, but in reality it just makes Kate’s skin crawl and she edges away from him. Clearly unperturbed by her lack of enthusiasm in him, Dr Tanner starts to close the gap between them, puffing his chest out and blocking Kate from the doorway. 

 

“You need someone to keep you warm tonight honey?” he queried as he stared unashamedly at her breasts, “There’s lots of Sex Machine to go around, maybe you want to get a little practice in before we find Wonder Boy?”

 

“No thank you,” Kate replies stiffly as she stands her ground against him, “How about you tell me how you can you help me find Richie?”

 

“You sure?” Tanner asks as he moves closer to her again and reaches out for her, “I bet that little honey pot of your’s is begging for some action.”

 

There’s a low whistling noise, the air between them moves slightly, and Kate finds herself looking at Tanner’s hand in horror; there’s a large arrow sticking out of it.

 

“FUCK!!” Tanner swears as he stares down in disbelief at his hand, “HOW MANY FUCKING TIMES? THIS SHIT STILL HURTS!”

 

Whimpering in pain, Tanner cradles his bloody hand to his chest whilst Kate just stands there staring, frozen with shock. Then, a deep, commanding voice calls out behind her.

 

“Step away from the girl.”

 

Something inside her unsticks itself and Kate looks past the injured Tanner and finds herself face to face with Zolo, the Jaguar Warrior of Xibalba and Brasa’s most loyal servant, standing tall in the doorway. There’s a huge sword strapped to his broad back and he already has another arrow drawn and aimed directly at Tanners chest. Kate’s breath is coming out in short bursts as she hastily backs away from him in fear; she had thought he was dead, long gone like the Sun God he served.

 

“Get away from the girl,” Zolo says quietly; his dark eyes fixing themselves on the exact spot where Tanners heart is.

 

“Can you people stop sticking things in me?” Tanner grumbles as he snaps the arrow head off and pulls out the wooden shaft, “You’ve gone and ruined my new shirt! One of you owes me money for this!”

 

He doesn't seem all that concerned by the presence of Zolo and Kate is starting to worry that she made a stupid decision by trusting him. A horrible thought creeps into her head as she stares between the two of them. What if the fight with Tanner was all just a huge act? It would be the perfect ruse to make her drop her guard so they could kidnap her she thinks wildly, as she tries to put as much distance between her and Zolo as she can. There could still be followers of Amaru out there, one’s who would do anything to see their Queen rise again. Zolo hasn’t moved at all, it doest look like he’s even breathing, and he remains like a statue in the doorway; once gain blocking any means Kate had of escape. 

 

  

“I said,” Zolo repeats as he sends another arrow whistling just inches away from Tanner’s head, “Get away from the girl.”

 

“WATCH IT!” Tanner yelps as he falls over in shock and goes stumbling into Kate. Then proving just what a pathetic person he really is, he pulls Kate in front of him and effectively tires to use her as a human shield. 

 

“Do that again,” he hisses as he bends down to tries to unsuccessfully hide behind Kate, “And you’ll playing target practice with Prom Queen here.’

 

Kate, fed up of everyone pulling her about like she’s nothing, rams her elbow as hard as she can into the wound in his stomach, causing Tanner to let out a howl of misery as he lessons his grip on her.

 

“Leave the girl be,” the warrior says in the quiet way of his, another arrow already loaded into his bow, his fingers moving faster then Kate thought was possible, “Leave the girl be and I’ll let you live.”

 

 

Tanner stares at him, clearly trying to work out if he can win this fight, and ultimately decides that he can’t as he pushes Kate away from and goes to sit on the bed.

 

“All right Red Harvest,” he grumbles as he starts to tear another strip off his ruined shirt and wraps it around his hand, “No need to get testy! What are you doing creeping around here any way?”

 

“I heard the call,” Zolo states, as he turns away from Tanner and stares right at Kate, “The call for help, the call for aid.”

 

Dread, deep all encompassing dread pours through Kate’s entire body as her eyes go wide with fear as she stares back at him. With Tanner she had merely felt annoyed by his entitled and perverted attitude, but Zolo? She had seen his power whilst he served the Sun God and it scared her to death. Amaru must have called out for help to Zolo somehow, right before Kate pierced her heart in two, just like she did with Itzpa. There’s no other possible way he would have known how to find her; even Freddy must think she’s dead by now and it’s not like Seth knew where she was either. What if Zolo had been sent by one of Amaru’s minions to bring her back? Maybe there’s some residual bit of the Queen left inside her or they can use her body again to bring Amaru back? All the bravado she had felt with Tanner is slowly ebbing away and is being replaced by sheer bloody panic as she tries to figure a way out of this. Kate would rather kill herself where she stands then let herself be twisted into some unknown version of herself again. There has to be some way out of this but it’s a small room and her back is against the wall, there’s no way she could get around Zolo to make it through the door. Her eyes flit about as she weighs up her options, many of which involve either screaming for Scott or slicing her own throat. The warrior has barely even moved but his bow is still drawn, even if it is pointing at Tanner, and to be honest he could easily over power her without the need for a weapon; his arm muscles are like tree trunks compared to hers. Kate doesn't even bother to look to Tanner for help; he’s still sat on the bed moaning about his hand. If the last few months had taught her anything it’s that you have to be willing to fight for yourself, even if it seems that all the odds are stacked against you. She takes a few cautious steps to the left, Zolo’s eyes watching her every move, and her foot catches on something heavy. It’s Scotts sword, now covered in bits of congealed flesh and dried blood, and Kate darts forward to pick it up. The handle is slippery and gross but she feels almost instant relief as she holds the weapon tight in her hands.

 

“STAY AWAY FROM ME!” she screams as she holds the sword in front of her; she still isn't sure if she's going to use it on Zolo or herself, “I MEAN IT!”

 

Her whole arm is shaking and Tanners sticky blood is making it difficult to keep a hold of the damn thing, but she won’t give in without a fight; Zolo will have have to pry the sword form her cold, dead hand if he thinks she’ll go with him willingly. 

 

“I mean you no harm,” Zolo says in that annoyingly calm voice of his as he slowly lowers his bow and arrow, “I thought you might be in trouble.”

 

This time its Kate’s turn to laugh, and she does, loud and long and slightly hysterically at the thought of this man, no, this _thing_ trying to help her. Has he forgotten all the times that he stood by Amaru’s side and watched whilst the Queen wrecked havoc on the people Kate loved most dearly? Or all the innocent people that had suffered or been killed due to Amaru’s desire to have dominion over all? Once she’s started laughing she can’t seem to stop, even though just looking at Zolo dredges up horrible, disturbing images that Kate had unsuccessfully tried to burry. Even Tanner is giving her a weird look as her hysterical laughter echoes all around the room. It all just seems so funny that Zolo thinks she might need his help, like she wasn't capable of looking after herself. If Zolo was so concerned about her welfare, then he could have helped her a long time ago, back when she was being forced to take a back seat inside her own body. 

 

“You mean me no harm?” Kate scoffs as her voice steadily fills with anger, “Well that’s funny; I didn't see you being so concerned when Amaru was using me like a puppet.”

 

Zolo just stares at her; his expression almost unreadable as his dark eyes search her face, like he’s looking for something buried deep within her. Kate wishes he would just look away, she’s sick of people looking at her like that; checking to see if the Mad Queen is still lurking around. It makes her feel like she’ll never escape from what happened to her. Pushing this aside for the moment, now that Zolo is here maybe she can finally get some answers. 

 

“Why did you help her?” she snarls as she moves forward, the sword making her feel bolder, “Are you that much of a coward that you’d rather save you’re own skin than help innocent people?”

 

Tanner makes a derisive noise on the bed; he hasn’t offered her up as bait yet to Zolo but he’s not exactly helping her either. Another coward Kate thinks bitterly as she grips the sword tighter in her hand as she watches Zolo carefully.

 

“Maybe don’t call a Jaguar Warrior a coward,” Tanner interjects unhelpfully, “They don’t take to kindly to that.”

 

“Shut up!” Kate snaps at him, her eyes still trained on the non moving Zolo, “He’s a coward. Anybody who just stand on the sidelines and watches innocent people get hurt is nothing but a LOW DOWN DIRTY COWARD!”

 

The warrior still hasn't moved even as she raised her voice to him and Kate was half expecting to have an arrow sticking out of her head by now. She almost wants him to try something, anything, as the rage that she’s been trying to temper starts to boil over inside her. How could he just stand around and do nothing? 

 

“We are loyal to those who defat us,” Zolo says quietly as he holds his gaze on her.

 

“ _Loyal_?” Kate says incredulously as she waves the sword around in anger, “You’re not loyal to anyone!”

 

Zolo remains silent and stoic as he looks at her again before he repeats his mantra again.

 

“We are loyal to those who defat us.”

 

Why didn't you do anything?” Kate bellows, she wants him to give her some proper answers, not this mystic mumbo jumbo, “Why didn't you try and stop her?”

 

“We are _loyal_ to those who defeat us,” Zolo repeats again and Kate grits her teeth and brings the sword swinging through the air in frustration. He keeps saying that like she's supposed to understand what he's talking about, like its supposed to mean something to her. 

 

“STOP SAYING THAT!!” she screams as she throws the sword to the floor in a fit of rage, “WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?!”

 

“We are…” Kate doesn't even let him finish.

 

Something inside her snaps and sends the sword clattering to the floor as she runs at Zolo and starts slamming her small fists onto his bare chest. Kate barely comes up to his waist and her hands are already starting to hurt, it’s like trying to punch through marble, but she can’t seem to stop herself.  There’s a loud ringing noise in her ears and it takes Kate a second to realise that it’s coming from her as she screams out loud as she completely loses control. Zolo offers no resistance and takes all of Kate’s punishment, even though she has barely made a dent in him, and he waits until she’s finally out of energy. Then he holds her steady in his huge hands just as her legs start to crumple out from underneath her. It takes everything she has left for her not to cry, she won’t give either of them the satisfaction, but her body is weak and she can’t summon the energy to push Zolo away from her. For some reason it doesn't seem like he want’s to hurt her, instead he sets her gently down on the floor, like she was made of the most fragile piece of glass, and kneels next to her. Kate turns her head away from him as she sits there and tries to get her breath back. She can feel the warriors eyes on her and then, when her breathing is under control, he tilts her flushed face up towards him and repeats the mantra he's been saying ever since he got here.

 

“We are _loyal_ ,” he whispers as her eyes find his, “To those who defeat us.”

 

Suddenly, something clicks inside Kate’s head as she stares into his deep dark eyes. There’s so much pain and sadness residing in them that they look almost bottomless to her. There’s only one other person eyes’s she's ever seen look that sad, and it stirs the same feeling of sorrow in her now as it did then. Kate finally understands what Zolo has been trying to tell her all along.

 

“You’re a slave?” she asks as he helps her to her feet, “Brasa used you, didn't he? Just like Amaru used me. You couldn't help us even if you wanted to, could you?”

 

“We will stand until we drop,” he says gravely, as he lets go of her hands and stands away from her, “Such is our obedience. We give ourselves to those who would master us for whatever ill will they desire. We wear no chains and hide behind no walls but we are prisoners all the same; until our _last dying breath_.” 

 

His head drops to his chest at the end of his speech; the shame radiates off him and Kate gently touches his arm. He almost flinches, like he doesn't know what kindness feels like, and her heart aches for him; she know’s what it feels like to be used. 

 

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” she says gently as he finally lifts his head to look at her uncertainly, “But you can still help us to put it right if you want to. That’s not a requirement or an order,” she adds quickly as Zolo seems to spring to attention, “You’re under no obligation to help us if you don’t want to. Brasa is dead; you’re free to do as you like.”

 

Kate had thought reminding him of his masters demise might bring him some comfort, instead the warriors face hardens and a dark cloud of anger washes over him. That same fear from earlier hits her again and Kate takes an uncertain step away from him; slave or not, Zolo is still an unknown quantity. 

 

“Brasa used my people, used them until there was nothing left except dust and bone, and I let him destroy them all,” Zolo says bitterly as his voice rises an octave, “I am the only one left of my kind.”

 

“So what are you doing here?” Tanner buts in before Kate can stop him, “Brasa got blown to tiny little pieces and Richie took an extended vacation to Xibalba. You should be cutting loose man.”

 

“I am here to fulfil my duty,” Zolo says, as he looks over at Tanner with intense dislike, before he turns away and walks towards Kate and stands directly in front of her.

 

“I have been searching for you Katherine Fuller, to ask for your forgiveness,” he tells her, “I am sworn to protect those I am loyal to. I failed him.”

 

“You mean Richie?” Kate whispers as Zolo nods, his eyes never leaving hers.

 

“I am bound to Richard, not through slavery, but through the true meaning of loyalty,” he says intensely, “The fight was fair; he could have killed me where I stood but he let me live even though I am a coward. I see it now that is better to fight against the evil that stalks this world rather then be a slave to it.”

 

Kate is still at a loss for words; even more so when Zolo removes his sword from the sheath on his back and lays it directly at her feet. She steps backwards again nervously, but Zolo only gracefully gets down on one knee in front of her.

 

“I am Zolo,” he says solemnly as he looks up at her, his eyes full of emotion, “Clan leader of the Jaguar Warriors and last of my kind. Allow me to join your campaign and I will aid you in your quest until either I am dead, or you have a victory.”

 

She stares at him dumbfounded; never in a million years had she expected this.

 

“You don’t have to,” Kate stutters, as she attempts to put the words together to tell him he doesn't need to give up his life for her, when Tanner interrupts again.

 

“WOAH!” he exclaims as he leaps off the bed and hurries over to them, “Are you the Guardian?”

 

“The what?” Kate asks as Zolo picks up his sword and rises to his feet; she has no idea whats going on.

 

“You know of the sacred bond between the Guardian and the Oath Maker?” Zolo asks him suspiciously and he moves ever so slightly to the left, shielding Kate from view slightly. 

 

“Hell yeah,” Tanner says as he start to fizz with energy, “Well, I mean I saw the kid reading up on it when he was researching you guys. Had a look when he went to take a leak.”

 

This doesn't seem to endear Tanner to Zolo, instead the warrior looks highly offended.

 

“Knowledge of the bond is revered between those it is made by,” he snaps, “It is not something to be taken lightly.”

 

“Look,” Tanner reasons, “It’s not my fault Richie left his little research project lying around.”

 

“Excuse me,” Kate interjects as they both turn to look at her, “What are you guys even talking about? What does all this even mean?”

 

“This,” Tanner say’s simply and then, without warning, he pulls a knife from his pocket and throws it directly at her face. Its barely left Tanners hand before Zolo snatches the knife out of mid air; it never even had a chance of getting anywhere near her.

 

“Whoa,” Tanner says as he backs away with his hands held in front of him as Zolo stalks towards him, “Take it easy big guy, I was just showing her what the Guardian does is all.”

 

Zolo scowls at him as he snaps the knife in half and throws the pieces on the floor.

 

“If you do that again,” he says, as he squares up against Tanner, “The next thing that breaks will be your neck.”

 

Meanwhile, Kate is still completely in the dark about what it is that Zolo is supposed to be doing. The fact that Tanner as some idea, and was willing to throw a knife at her to prove it, is really starting to annoy her.

 

“Again,” she says, “I still have no idea what you’re both talking about.”

 

“I…” Zolo begins but Tanner interrupts him again.

 

“Man this is some trip shit,” he cackled as he stares at Zolo in amazement, like he’s some kind of science experiment. 

 

“What is?” Kate asks in frustration, as Tanner continues to ignore her, “What are you talking about?”

 

“I knew that kid was clever but man!”Tanner chitters excitedly as he finally turns towards her, “Zolo gave his loyalty to Richie right? That’s unbreakable unless one of them dies but, somehow, that clever little shit found a way to shift Zolo’s protection onto you,” 

 

All the colour drain’s away from Kate’s face and she starts to feel dizzy as Tanner carries on explaining.

 

“In the event he's not here or he died before he could free you, then this guy,” he says as he points to Zolo, “Is bound to protect you! Trust me lady; you’ve got a price on your pretty little head. Those Culebra’s you, I mean Amaru, killed? Lets just say their buddies ain’t happy.”

 

The air suddenly seems too thick, and Kate has to put her head between her knees as the enormity of what Zolo and Tanner are telling her sinks in.

 

“Miss Katherine?” Zolo asks and, for the first time, he sounds worried as he puts a firm hand on her back.

 

“It’s called love, you robot,” Tanner snarks, “Maybe you stick around long enough we can find you a little pussy cat to play with.”

 

Tanner guffaws loudly at his own joke whilst Kate manages to pull herself together a little bit.  

 

“He did all this,” she whispers at Zolo, almost in disbelief, “He did all this for _me_?”

 

“As I told you before,” Zolo explains as he straightens up, “I heard the call for help.”

 

“You heard Richie?” Kate asks, her eyes going wide and her voice tight with emotion.

 

“Before the gates closed something happened,” Zolo tells her as confusion flits across his face, “In all my years I have never known anything like this.”

 

Kate doesn't seem to know what to do with all this information, the knowledge that Richie was thinking of her right up in till the end was almost too much to bear. 

 

“He sent you?” Kate says as she struggles to get the words out, “Richie sent you to protect me?”

 

“I stand in the gap,” Zolo tells her as he stands straight and tall in front of her, “I will protect you from all that would harm you and shelter you from the darkness until he is returned to your side.”

 

Tears start to run down her face and she doesn't even bother to try and hide them this time. It’s a horrible feeling; standing there and knowing that Richie had planned out almost every potential situation, he’d even sent a warrior to protect her, and she can’t even manage to get the stupid gate open. Solo moves towards her, his hand reaching out to brush her tears away when there’s a loud crashing noise near the doorway.

 

“GET YOUR HANDS OFF MY SISTER ASSHOLE!!”

 

It’s Scott, finally back from his clearly pointless search of the grounds, and looking pissed as hell. Kate doesn't even get a chance to explain why she’s trapped in a room with Tanner and Zolo as, before she can even stop him, Scott is running straight at Zolo. There’s a crash of bodies as Scott almost bounces off Zolo’s chest as he hurtles right into the other man. 

 

“SCOTT!” Kate yells as she tries to get in between them, but Zolo puts his arm out to stop her.

 

The snake has taken over Scott and he charges again, fangs extended and eyes like slits, and finds himself on the floor as Zolo catches him easily in the ribs with his foot. 

 

“He is of your clan?” he asks Kate, as Scott moans in pain on the floor.

 

“YES!” Kate tells the warrior, “He’s my brother, you can’t hurt him!”

 

Zolo gives her a swift nod and reaches down to hoist Scott back up onto his feet. Scott doesn't take too kindly to this as he pushes Zolo away from him and then pulls Kate by her arm. 

 

“Kate, he’s dangerous!” Scott yells at her, “Him and his little cat buddies almost killed me!”

 

“Scott its ok; he’s on our side,” Kate quickly tries to explain, “He’s going to help us get Richie back!”

 

Scott glares at Zolo suspiciously and then his eyes fall on Dr Tanner, who had been lurking at the back.

 

“Seriously?” he asks Kate incredulously as he points over at Tanner, who waves back at him, “This guy? Kate; he ditched me when Burt freaked out back in the mine! He’s a loser!”

 

“Hey!” Tanner mutters indignantly as he stretches out on the bed, making himself right at home. 

 

“Look,” Kate says impatiently as she holds her hands up, “It’s a long story but Zolo didn't mean it and he’s going to help us. And Tanner… Well Tanner can help us with the books.”

 

Scott remains silent for a few moment as he digests this new information and then he just shakes his head at her in somewhat disbelief.

 

“‘Scuse us,” Scott tells the other two bluntly as he motions Kate out into the hallway.

 

“Take all the time you need,” Tanner calls out as he tries to sneak some more of Richie’s possessions into his pocket before Zolo stops him.

 

Once they’re out in the hallway, Scott rounds on Kate.

 

“I leave you alone for five minutes and this is what happens? What were you thinking Kate?!” he exploded as he rants at her, “These two are dangerous!”

 

Kate bristles; she’s not about to stand here and let Scott talk to her like she’s a wayward child.

 

“Don’t you yell at me Scott Fuller!” Kate snaps as she stands there with her hands on her hips, “For your information; _they_ came to _me_ ; it’s not like I put a massive sign up saying “Here we are!”

 

“Of all the people you could have picked to help us,” Scott goes on, completely ignoring her, “You went with a rapist and a demon that worked for the very person that just tried to kill us all!”

 

“I KNOW THAT!” Kate yells back at him, “It’s not like anyone else is lining up to help us!”

 

“So you go with the first two that show up?” Scott retorted, “Look I get it; you want to help Richie. But theses two aren't the way to go about it.”

 

“But they can help,” Kate protests, “I know they can.”

 

“We can’t trust them Kate!” Scott argues, “We’re better off when were on our own.”

 

“No, we aren't Scott,” Kate countered, “We have no idea what were doing. I won’t jeopardise Richie’s safety any more, or anyone else’s for that matter. We could have done some real damage back there if that skull thing had gotten loose.”

 

Scott let’s out a loud groan of frustration as he rubs his eyes with the heel of his palm, Kate can tell that she’s wearing him down. There’s no use denying it; they need both Zolo and Tanner if they have any hope of bringing Richie back to safety. 

 

“But Tanner, Kate?” Scott wines as he glances back to where they had left the other two, “That guys a creep.”

 

“Look I’m not stupid, ok?” Kate huffed, as she remembered ‘Sex Machines’ earlier advances, “Tanner is a pervert and gross… but Zolo is nice; he came here to help us!”

 

“Nice?” Scott scoffs, “Kate, you can’t base every decision you make on the guarantee that every one else has as good intentions as you do. For all you know, Zolo could be about to drag you back to his demon lair and stick someone else inside you!”

 

“But Richie sent him!” Kate presisted, “He sent him to protect me!”

 

“What are you talking about?” Scott asks her as he looks at her in confusion.

 

Kate tries to explain to him, as best she can, about Richie sending Zolo to help her and about him being her Guardian. She’s still trying to get her head around all this herself, so she prays that Scott doesn't ask too many questions.

 

“So he’s here to protect you?” Scott queries as he frowns at her, “Kind of like the Terminator but less cool?”

 

“Um, yeah,” Kate agrees, glad that Scott is finally getting on board with her plan, “I think so.”

 

“Ok, if you say that there ok then I’ll stand by you,” Scott tells her, “But we keep an eye on them and I’m not leaving you alone with Tanner.”

 

“Agreed,” Kate says, “Very much agreed.”

 

When they return to Richie’s bedroom, Zolo has Tanner pinned to floor; his foot planted firmly on the Culebra’s chest.

 

“Little help here?” he wheezes as he tries unsuccessfully to shift Zolo’s massive fur skinned boot.

 

Nobody pays him any attention and Scott walks purposely towards Zolo, still wary but willing to comply with Kate’s wishes. 

 

“Is what Kate said true?” he inquires quietly, “You’re here to protect her?” 

 

Zolo nods solemnly as he removes his foot from Tanners chest. The other man splutters dramatically as he crawls back to the bed on his hands and knees.

 

“My oath is my bond; she is under my protection,” he promises Scott, “No harm shall come to her, you have my word.”

 

“OK,” Scott says simply as he extends his hand out towards Zolo.

 

Zolo looks at Scotts hand in confusion and then back to Kate, his eyebrows raised. 

 

“You’re supposed to shake it,” Kate chips in helpfully, “It means you’re working together now.”

 

Zolo nods and awkwardly grasps Scotts hand and shake’s it vigorously, almost taking Scotts arm off in the process.

 

“Alright, Scooby Gang back together!” Tanner cheered excitedly as he holds his hand up for a high five. Nobody returns it so he retreats to the corner looking sheepish. 

After much back and forth they decided to decamp to the kitchen; there was more space there and Scott still didn't entirely trust Dr Tanner. It would give him more room to manoeuvre if Tanner foolishly decided to a move against them. Kate had loaded Zolo up with as many books as she could, and he had trotted after her like an obedient guard dog. There’s something about the way the warrior watches his sister that makes Scott trust him; it was a relief to finally find somebody that wasn't actively trying to kill them.  

 

During her deep clean whilst Scott had been sleeping, Kate had managed to sweep up most of the broken glass and there’s only a few blood splatters decorating the walls. Zolo looks over at the refrigerator with interest whilst Tanner helps Scott turn the table back up the right way so they can have a base to work off. Kate picks up a couple of the fallen chairs and sits herself down; her knee is really starting to ache now and it was a relief when she can finally takes the weight off her feet. The two Culebra’s sit across from each other, eyeing each other suspiciously, as Kate rolls her eyes. She doesn't have time for this macho bullshit; they need to get organised and start sorting out what they’re going to do and how they are going to do it. Only Zolo remaines standing and he almost melts into the background as he guards the back of Kate’s chair. 

 

“So,” Tanner begins but Kate cuts across him. She’s not having him jeopardise this rescue mission by trying to run his own agenda.

 

“What we need is a plan,” She interjects as she looks around the room at each of them, “So… any suggestions?”

 

“How about, first you tell us how Richie saved you,” Tanner chimes in, he looks pretty pissed off that Kate had interrupted him, “Last I heard, you were looking pretty much dead after Amaru had finished with you.”

 

He’s looking at with what looks like hunger in his eyes; not for food but for knowledge and Kate isn't about to give him what he want’s.  

 

“I don’t know,” Kate says honestly, because she really doesn't at this point and even if she did, she still wouldn't tell him, “My memory still isn't that great.”

 

It’s short and too the point and Tanners eyes rake over her again until he seems to decide that she’s telling the truth. Kate is about to move on to the case in hand but it seems like Tanner isn't done asking questions yet. 

 

“Ok, next question,” he says and Kate is beginning to feel really irritated with him, “Just what exactly did you two kids do back up at that mine?”

 

She should have expected this, but Kate is getting impatient that they're not actually getting to the real reason why they're all there, which is to help Richie. As quickly as she can, Kate goes through the whole story, the flaming skull, the voices, everything else she can think of until her throat is dry from talking so much. Scott had chipped in here and there when she forgot something or got the timeline muddled up which was a big help. Thankfully Tanner only irrupted her once or twice and she doesn't have to resort to stabbing him in frustration.

 

“So, let me get this straight,” Tanner drawls, “You went down there with no way to defend yourselves, the wrong book, caused another rock slide and tried to open the gate to the underworld all by yourselves?”

 

“Yes,” Kate says shortly as he shakes his head at her.

 

“Gee,” he mocks, “Is it any wonder why Richie isn't sat up here with us right now, with you two running the show?”

 

Kate feels her face flush as Tanner jeered at her; it isn't that she doesn't realise just how stupid her and Scott had been but at the end of the day she had been desperate.

 

“Did you even bring anything of use on this little adventure of yours?” Tanner persists and Kate reluctantly goes off to retrieve her backpack from the doorway. She’s barely held it out to him when he snatches it out of her hands and starts pulling stuff out.

 

“Ok, lets see what we got here,” he mutters as he pulls out a small bundle of tinfoil, “What the fuck is this?”

 

“Sandwiches,” Kate snaps as she returns to her seat.

 

“Sandwiches?” he asks her incredulously as he shakes the little bundle at her, “You brought sandwiches to a seance?”

 

“Well,” Kate huffed as she pulls the food out of his hand, “Lets just see how hungry you get after being stuck inside someone who doesn't even need to eat!”

 

Now she’s seen the sandwiches, Kate is suddenly starving hungry again and she tears into the squashed tinfoil like a starving racoon, and pulls out a slightly battered looking sandwich. Out of the corner of his eye, Zolo is watching her with interest.

 

“You want some?” she asks as she offers him one but he warrior just shakes his head.

 

“I do not partake in the consumption of animal flesh,” he explains, “Eat your fill Miss Katherine.”

 

“Oh, Ok,” Kate mumbles as she practically inhales the rest of her food.

 

Tanner is still digging though the rest of her stuff, muttering darkly to himself, he only seems interested in the book Kate had dragged with her. Richie’s notebook was safely tucked underneath her sweatshirt; Tanner doesn't need to know about that one. 

 

“This is the book you brought?” Tanner asks as he opens the huge leather bound book, “Man, this would have been the last one I would have taken. You should have started off with one of the codex’s.”

 

“It’s not like we had a lot of time to prepare,” Kate grumbles as she swallows the rest of her sandwich, “I just brought what I thought would be of some use.”

 

Tanner shuts the book with a loud thud and shoves it one side with the others. 

 

“Look you need my help,” Tanner argues and Kate has to grudgingly agree with him, “But i’ll be honest; even I can’t read half of this stuff, so if you may as well just hand over that diary you’ve stuck down your shirt, so we can get started.”

 

Kate glares at him and hugs her arms around her midsection as he holds his hand out for the notebook.

 

“Come on honey,” Tanner chides as he waits impatiently, “I thought you wanted to help your boyfriend?”

 

Reluctantly, Kate pulls the small notebook out from it’s hiding place but she still doesn't hand it over right away. It stays neatly settled in her lap as Tanner taps his foot in annoyance.  

 

“There might be personal stuff in there,” Kate says as she grips the diary extra tight, “Stuff Richie doesn't want people reading whilst he’s not here.”

 

“Oh please,” Tanner snorts, “Nobody writes a frickin diary anymore. It’s all that online shit you kids are into. I promise i’ll skim over any bits where he confesses his undying love for you or how great he thinks your rack looks.”

 

“Come on Kate,” Scott says encouragingly as he leans across the table, “You said it yourself, we don’t know what any of that stuff says. Dr Tanner might be able to make more sense out of it.”

 

“Thank you Scott,” Tanner says smugly as he tugs the notebook out of Kate’s grip and sets it one side; Kate keeps her eyes trained on exactly where he puts it.

 

“What the fuck is this?” he barked; he’s found Kate’s flask of chicken blood.

 

“We couldn’t find a goat in time,” Kate says indignantly as she pulls it out of his hand as Scott starts to gag again, “So we had to go with a chicken instead.”

 

Tanner lets out an exasperated sigh as he shoves the bag back at her.

 

Look, Zena,” he says as he scowls at her, “You can’t mess around with stuff like this; it has to be _exact_. Otherwise we’re gonna be pulling The Little Shop of Horrors through that gate and not Boy Genius.”

 

“Ok, I get that it was dumb,” she concedes as Tanner lets out a snort of derision, “But that’s what you guys are here for. If we all work together I know that we can find a way to get to Richie.”

 

Without waiting for Tanner to interrupt again, Kate decides that the one person who had remained silent throughout this whole debate was probably the only one of them who had any useful information.

 

“When Richie called to you,” Kate asks as she twists around to speak Zolo, “Did you see anything? Anything that might help us know where he is?”

 

“There was nothing but fire,” Zolo tells her from his sentry position behind her, “The gates are closed to you Miss Katherine.”

 

“Why does he keep saying that?” Scott whispers to her but Kate shushes him; Zolo had more knowledge about Xibalba than all of them put together.

 

“Come sit,” Kate says as she pats the chair next to her. What he had said about the gate being shut was starting to worry her and she needs him to elaborate on this. Zolo looks awkward and uncomfortable as he slides quickly into the seat next to her.

 

“We were not permitted to sit with the masters,” he tells her quietly, “It was forbidden.”

 

I told you,” Kate tells him with a smile, “You’re free to do as you please. Besides; Richie wouldn’t want you to stand whilst we’re all sitting down.”

 

Zolo gives her a look that sort of seems like a cross between a small smile and a grimace and Kate beams back at him. He might need a bit of housebreaking, but she’s really starting to warm up to the Jaguar Warrior; there’s a gentleness about him that you wouldn't expect from someone so large.

 

“Ok, plan time,” Kate says as she addresses the group. She’s starting to feel lot more confident now and slightly more in control then she did earlier. Adding Zolo and Tanner to their team had lifted her spirits; there’s a chance that they might actually get Richie back, “How do we get to Xibalba if we can’t go back through the mine?

 

“Big Man,” Tanner says as he turns to Zolo, “How do we get into the homestead then? There must be some secret passageway or a tunnel?” 

 

“An assault on Xibalba would be fool hardy and reckless,” Zolo replies although he speaks more to Kate than Tanner. The warrior doesn't seem to like self professed Sex Machine very much, and Kate doesn't exactly blame him, “They will know you’re there before you’ve even had a chance to draw breath.”

 

“You mean we can’t get in at all?” Kate fretted, her heart sinking, “But, we have to! I can’t just leave Richie down there!”

 

“Hmmm,” Tanner says as he looks over at Zolo suspiciously, “So there’s no other way, none at all? See, that’s not what I heard, I heard there’s plenty of ways to get into Xibalba if you’re willing to do a little dark dealing. You holding out on us friend?”

 

“I am here to protect my charge and fulfil my oath,” Zolo spits as he glares at Tanner, “Not spend time with lying thieves like you!”

 

“That’s funny,” Tanner hisses, “I didn't see you giving too much of a shit when that little girl was stuck inside your nut job of a queen.”

 

“A journey to Xibalba is nothing to jest about,” Zolo says, “You have no idea what’s down there!”

 

“Hey! I got in this before you,” Tanner spits as he jabs his finger in Zolo’s direction, “So I should get a say and I say we go back to the gate!”

 

“You just got in five minutes ago!” Scott snaps back at him, “We need to listen to someone who actually knows what they're talking about.”

 

“And who's that?” Tanner mocks as he turns to Scott, “You? You don’t even know a thing about Cuebra’s let alone Xibalba. Why not leave it to the grown ups, ehh kid?”

 

Scott jumps to his feet; his jaw clenching as he stares angrily at Tanner.

 

“We can handle this just fine on our own,” he snarls, “how about you take your worthless ass someplace else?”

 

“Yeah, cus you two were doing so well without me!” Tanner smirks as he leans back in his chair like he owns the place, “One return trip and the pair of you managed to shut the only gate to Xibalba up for good!”

 

Then all three of them start to bicker loudly back and forth, tempers rising as they each try and make their voices heard. 

 

“HEY!” Kate yells as she slams one of the heavy books down on the table to get their attention, “WE DO NOT HAVE TIME FOR THIS! IF YOU WANT TO ARGUEE, GO AND DO IT SOMEPLACE ELSE.”

 

“Sorry,” Scott mutters sheepishly as Zolo hangs his head whilst Tanner just laughs at her.

 

“Well, well, well,” he drawls as Kate shoots him a very nasty look, “If it isn't Gecko number three. You clearly picked up some tips from Seth on your little Mexican honeymoon.”

 

The Mexican honeymoon quip had stung and Kate feels her face flush; that’s exactly what Richie had said to her as well. Why does everyone keep assuming that she and Seth did anything more than just make each other miserable on their three month trip?

 

“Moving on,” Kate says as she turns away for Tanner, “We need to start going through these books. If we can find out as much as we can about Xibalba then we might stand a chance of getting Richie out; three days is long enough already.”

 

It isn't hard to miss the sidelong glance that the three men give each other and Kate frowns to herself; there’s something they’re not telling her.

 

“What?” she asks as they all avoid her gaze, even Zolo looks determinedly at the floor, “What aren't you telling me?

 

It’s Scott, in the end, who brakes the silence as he takes his sisters hand.

 

“Kate,” Scott says gently, “Burt told me that time is different down there. It doesn't pass like it does up here.”

 

“But he’s only been gone three days,” Kate stammers as she pulls her hand away and finds herself on her feet, “How much difference can there be?”

 

“I know but…” Scott says uneasily as he trails off and glances across to  Zolo.

 

“How long has he been down there?” Kate asks as her voice starts to shake with emotion but nobody answers her. She turns to Zolo; the only one she trusts to tell her the truth.

 

“You said you were here to protect me,” she tells him quietly, “This isn't protecting me. Please, tell me how long Richie has been in Xibalba.”

 

“The darkness behind him stretches out a whole legion,” he tells her softly, “As the moon waxes and wanes in the night sky.”

 

“He means Boy Genius has been stuck down there for a hundred years already,” Tanner offers as he sees the confused look on Kate’s face, “And it’s getting longer by the day. His mind is going to be like swiss cheese if we don’t cut the crap and get a move on.”

 

Tanner is still talking but Kate’s vision is starting to swim in and out and she feels her legs turn to jelly; a strong arm catches her by the elbow and steers her gently to her seat. They’ve all started arguing again, but its more like a vague buzzing to her this time, just background noise as she tries to take in what Zolo just told her. A hundred years? A hundred years or pain, fear and torment al because Kate couldn't get her brain into gear and help him. Richie must be so scared down there all alone…

 

“The way is shut, it …” Zolo is saying but Scott cuts him off before he can finish.  

 

“Yeah we heard all that already,” he grumbles, “Give us something we can actually use!”

 

“The gate can only be opened by a King or Queen,” Zolo informs him as Kate starts to pull herself back into the conversation.

 

“Great,” Scott exclaims like they just solved the case, “We can find Kisa; she can open it.”

 

Zolo shakes his head forlornly at him as he watches Kate staring blankly at the table.

 

“She is not a queen,” he tells them, “Not in the way Xibalban’s mean.”

 

“So there’s _nothing_ ,” Scott asks defeatedly, “ _Nothing_ that we can do?” 

 

They all turn to Kate who seems to have disappeared inside herself; her thoughts lost on Richie and the sheer horror he must be going through. Scott looks at her sadly as Zolo moves towards her and takes her hands, pulling her out of her revere as he forces her to look at him. 

 

“Do not despair Miss Katherine, that gate was the way in,” Zolo reassured her and Kate begins to feel her heart soar, “What we need, is to find the way out.”

 

“So there is a way,” Kate gasps as hope begins to flutter inside her once more, “If we can find the way out, we can pull Richie back through!”

 

Even Tanner and Scott are starting to look excited now; finally a bit of good luck. 

 

“There are portals on this side,” he explains, “But you need someone to call you through like Barasa did for me.”

 

“Ok,” Kate says quickly as she moves around to the books they brought in with them and starts digging through them, “So how do we do that? How do we call Richie back to this side?”

 

“This I do not know,” Zolo admits and Kate’s heart sinks a little, “What I do know, is that you need blood.”

 

“Blood ok,” Kate mused and then she sends her chair tipping over backwards as she dashes over to the kitchen draws and starts pulling them open, as the others watch her nervously, “Will this do?”

 

She’s got a steak knife in her hand, the blade already pressed against the pale skin of her forearm. They all start yelling at her at the same time and Scott runs towards her and wrestles the blade from her grip.

 

“Don’t be such an idiot Kate!” He snaps at her as he pushes her back to her seat.

 

“What?” Kate says offhandedly, she wasn't about to cut her arm off or anything, “Zolo said we needed blood!”

 

“Yeah, but not a whole bodies worth Kate!” Scott says as Kate grumbles at him. She’s not thinking clearly now that the answer to getting Richie back by her side is almost within her grasp.

 

“You misunderstand me Miss Katherine,” Zolo explains to her, “Your actions are noble, foolhardy, but noble. What we need, is Gecko blood.”

 

Kate’s heart drops to the very bottom of her stomach; they keep running into dead ends.

 

“Where are we going to find Riche’s blood?” she asks them all desperately, “Maybe we could check the hospitals, he could have donated or had an operation or something!”

 

“He didn't say Richie’s blood though did he?” Tanner interjects and Kate stops her frantic rambling to look at him, “He said _Gecko_ blood, and I think I might now where we can get it.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun, Dun, Duuuuuunnnnn! Thank you all for reading; hope you all enjoyed the latest instalment. Tune in next week to see if the newly formed Scooby Gang can get their hands on some Gecko blood...
> 
> Comments and questions very much appreciated!!


	4. Chapter 4

 

“Richie,” Seth grumbled sleepily, as he batted away the long finger that was jabbing him in the back of the head, “Stop it.”

 

The poking stops and Seth drifts off to sleep again for a while, but then the finger is back and pecking at him more insistently then ever. Seth ignores him in the hope that he’ll go away; Richie probably wants to tell him some fact he found or some maths problem that he figured out that nobody else on the planet could be able to. It works for a time being but then the fucking finger is back again and Seth is really beginning to loose his patience with his brother. Richie knows the rule, if Seth is sleeping then he’s to leave him the fuck alone.

 

“I said fuck off!” Seth growls as a hand slaps him hard on the side of the face.

 

Seth sits bolt up right as he prepares to kick the shit out of his pesky little brother, or he would do if his face wasn’t sticking to the leather seat of his car. Huh? Seth opens his eyes bleary and finds himself staring at the upholstery of the back seat of his car; below him is an empty bottle of Jack Daniels and a few crumpled dollar bills. The temperature inside the car is sweltering and he peels the side of his face away from the hot leather and tries to sit up. Outside is pure dusty desert and the sun is hanging high overhead; there’s nothing else around except for an old truck that’s parked on the opposite side of the road.

 

“Mister?”

 

A blurry figure appears in front of him and Seth’s has to shield his eyes against the bright light of the sun as he looks up.

 

“Richie?” he slurs as all the alcohol he’d consumed starts to make itself known, “That you?”

 

An old, weather beaten face stares down at him and Seth can only look back in confusion. Where the fuck is Richie? His head feels like it’s full of cotton wool as he tries to piece together why he’s slumped on the back seat of his car on the roadside, rather than in a nice hotel bed with a hot chick laying next to him.

 

“You ok son?” The old dude is looking at him, waiting for answer but Seth’s mind is spiralling backwards at such a rate it makes his head spin. Then it hits him like a freight train; Richie. He was gone, lost forever and Seth had no way to bring him back. His hands start to shake as the past few days come rushing back into his alcohol addled brain. Richie, Kate, Scott; Seth had left them all and fled; hauled ass as fast as he could from that hellish place. Away from the relative safety of the compound they had found together, away from anything that reminded him of his lost brother.

 

“You needing some help there boy?” It’s the old man again and Seth squints up at him as the sun’s rays beat down on him.

 

“Richie,” he says again and the wrinkled old face looks at him in confusion.

 

“That somebody you need me to call?” he asks but Seth isn't listening to him as he drags himself off the back seat and climbs into the drivers seat. He needs to leave, leave this place for good, even though he has no idea where in the hell here even is.  

 

Hey!” The old man is cursing at him as Seth leans over and slams the car door shut. Two minutes later he’s back on the road, showering the poor old guy in a cloud of dust and dirt as he flies down the road like a bat out of hell.

 

It seems like he drives for hours and hours down that open stretch of road, there’s no land marks and Seth didn't bother to bring a map with him when he had bolted back to the compound. He’d stuffed some clothes into a small bag and taken off again before anyone had even made it back. That’s even if they were still alive but Seth wasn’t thinking clearly at that point, he hadn't even been mad when he opened his hidden safe to find all the money missing. His only goal was getting as far away from the awful event he had just witnessed; maybe if he just ran far enough his problems wouldn't follow him. Seth fumbles around underneath his seat until he finds the bottle that’s rolling around under there, pulling the cap off with his teeth as he takes a huge mouthful. The liquor burns his throat but it’s only for an instant and he lets the alcohol wash over him, not caring that he’s already far too drunk to drive. Going out in a ball of fire would be a lot less painful than having to live a life without his brother by his side.

 

It’s probably only been half an hour but it feels like an eternity to Seth as the sun heats up the car and his sweaty back starts to stick to the leather seats. He takes another few swigs of liquor as he tries to ignore what his body is really craving; he can’t help but glance at his glove box from time to time. Driving on for a couple more miles with the sun beating down on him again, the little itch that had started a few miles back starts to crawl it’s way up his arm and inside his head; he needs a fix. God seems to be smiling on him as there’s a small clump of trees up a head, so he pulls in and kills the engine. With all his money gone Seth had only had enough money spare for a couple of hits of heroin; which he had scored easily enough from some college kid when he had stopped for gas and more liquor. At least he knows it wasn't Richie that was after his money he thinks bitterly, yet another thing he’d wasted time blaming his brother for.

 

There’s a spare needle hidden away inside a box of condoms at the back of the glove box, it’s the one place he had known that Richie would never look, and he fumbles with the catch to open it.  The task turns out to be almost impossible as the the liquor has made his fingers stubby and clumsy and they refuse to work despite his best efforts.

 

“FOR FUCK SAKE!” Seth screams desperately, as he pounds on the hard plastic with his fist, “OPEN THE FUCK UP!” 

 

The craving is so bad it’s making his teeth ache, he’d been so good for so long but that was only because Richie had, literally, slapped the shit out of him when he had found out that Seth had started using again. Seth had refrained from mentioning that it was Richie’s precious little Princess Kate that had enabled him in the first place; maybe if he’d had then Richie wouldn't have been so willing to be sucked into Xibalba for her. It’s only when Seth kicks the glove box hard with his foot that it finally yields open for him; spilling the contents all over the floor of the car.

 

“Fuck sake,” Seth mutters as he grabs stuff and starts throwing it back inside.

 

His hand closes around something hard and Seth snatches it up, expecting it to be the condom packet he’d been desperate for. It turns out to be a small, bright yellow plastic box and Seth’s breath tightens as he stares at it. The lid pops open easily enough to reveal Richie’s gum shield; the one Seth made him wear every night because the sound of Richie grinding his teeth in his sleep drove Seth up the wall. His finger tips linger over the hard plastic as he takes it in for minute or two, before his face hardens and he tosses it out of the window; It’s not like Richie will be needing it anymore. Desperately he digs through the mess util he finds the stupid condom box and tears into it like a wild animal. The hypodermic needle falls into his lap and Seth lets out an audible sigh of relief as he snatches it up and pulls the cap off. The needle is missing. Seth stares at it stupidly for a moment before he notices that there’s something rolled up inside the plastic chamber. Pulling the plunger out, he shakes it frantically until a small, folded piece of paper falls into his lap. For a wild moment he thinks that it’s more drugs but it’s too neatly folded for anything that could be to do with Seth. With trembling fingers he unfolds it;

 

**_“You Need To Find A Better Hiding Place Brother.”_ **

 

Richie’s perfectly neat handwriting stares accusingly back at him and Seth lets out a loud snarl of rage and he scrunches the note up in his hand.

 

“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU CARE?!” he screams as tears the note into pieces, “YOU’RE NOT FUCKING HERE TO STOP ME ARE YOU?!”

 

With another roar he chucks the paper on to the seat beside him and pounds on the steering wheel in frustration, trust Richie to pulls some shit like this. Richie’s never understood that in times like this, Seth needs drugs. They make him feel better and are pretty capable of eradicating the extreme sense of loss that he’s feeling right now.

 

“YOU’RE SUCH A FUCKING DICK!” Seth yells out loud, “I FUCKING NEEDED THAT!”

 

What the hell is he supposed to do now? Without the needle the fifty dollar baggie of drugs in his pocket is useless.

 

“ALL WAYS GOT TO SUCK THE FUN OUT OF EVERYTHING, DON’T YOU?” he shouts again, even though he’s praying for Richie to appear beside him and reel of all the reasons why drugs are bad for you and you shouldn't do them.

 

“WELL SCREW YOU THEN,” Seth snarls to thin air, “I DON’T FUCKING NEED YOU ANYWAY!”

 

A light breeze flows through the window and picks the tiny pieces of paper up like a mini tornado; scattering them along the floor of the car. Seth watches them as they start to disappear, one by one, a great surge of panic hit’s him; this is all he has left of Richie.

 

“No, no,” he mutters widely, throwing himself across the seat to try and grab all the little pieces, “No, please this is all I’ve got!”

 

Ten minutes later Seth’s managed to find every last piece and he grips them tightly in his shaking fist. Sweat is pouring off him, whether its down to the heat or the fact that he really needs a fix is debatable. He scrubs his face angrily with his palm as he tries to clear his head; Richie is gone and a couple of bits of paper aren't going to bring him back. That being said, he still tucks them carefully inside his wallet.

 

He needs to get out of here, away from this desert and into the loving arms of the opiates he’s been craving ever since Richie got pulled away from him. Stuffing everything back in the glove compartment, Seth takes one long gulp out booze, he needs money if he’s going to buy drugs and some way to get it quickly. There’s a loud crunching sound as Richie’s gum shield gets crushed beneath Seth’s tires as he speeds off; a plan already forming in his head. 

 

 

Fighting pits are easy to find if you know where to look and Seth sure as hell can spot one a mile away. It’s always the same types of guys that you’ll find there; the ones looking to prove something and the ones that just get off on it.There’s nothing to wrap his hands with so Seth just stripped down to his vest and torn his shirt to pieces in the bathroom. Wrapping Seth hands was always Richie’s job; he was a lot more neat and precise then Seth was, and over the years he had found that he came away with a lot less scrapes when Richie sorted him out. Well, Richie isn't here now so Seth will just have to make do with himself for the time being. Hopefully this will only be a one time thing and the heroin will take him out before he feels the need to get his hands dirty again. The announcer is shouting at him so Seth crosses the small dirt floor and heads towards the ramshackle cage he’ll be fighting in.

 

“Name?” the grizzly looking man asks once he’s beckoned Seth over with his finger.

 

“Butch,” Seth blurts out; it was the first thing that had come into his mind and Grizzly Adams raises his eyebrows at him.

 

Seth just shrugs and tries to push out of his head the last time he’d used that name; he needs a clear head and not one that’s full of memories of Richie.

 

His opponent is some white trash redneck from Nowhere-Hicksville; he’s a got a couple of inches on Seth but they're evenly matched weight wise. Seth has been in enough scrapes to know that this is gonna be pretty easy; he gets half the house take if he wins which is plenty enough to buy some drugs.

 

“Name?” the announcer is asking the other guy and when he turns towards Seth, he reveals that half his face is covered in a tattoo of a swastika.

 

“Jedediah,” the hillbilly drawls and Seth feels more confident then ever about beating the shit out of him; if theres one thing he can’t stand it’s a racist. 

 

“No bitting, no eye gouging and no cussing. What happens in the ring stays in the ring, we clear?” he asks them and they both nod, “All right, GO GET IT BOYS!”

 

Fighting has always been something that has come naturally to Seth; probably the only good thing he inherited from his Pa, alongside a love of hard liquor and women. Uncle Eddie always said there were two things you never forgot; your first fight and the first time you got laid and he was right. Seth was eight years old when he socked the school bully, Marcus Flint, in the face for pushing Richie off the jungle gym in the playground. It had been a pretty tame fight, mostly they had just rolled around on the floor whilst the girls all screamed for a teacher, but Seth never forgot that rush he had felt when his fist connected with Flint’s nose. Drugs held the same type of feeling for him but there was something about knowing that you were going to win, knowing that it was just your own strength that could save you from getting beat down by the other guy.

 

“You scared pretty boy?” Jedediah drawls as he tries to land a punch on Seth arm.

 

Seth snorts at him as he ducks and weaves out of the way, the alcohol is making him slow but he’s still hanging in there. The audience is going wild with bloodlust and it would usually be at this point that Seth would start to showboat; ducking and feigning just because he knew that Richie would be in the crowd watching. There’s nothing Seth likes more than to show off to his brother, for some reason it makes the fight all that more sweeter for him. But Richie isn't here this time and Seth half-heartedly wishes he’s going to see some version of him pop up in the crowd like he did with Kate. Thinking about Richie almost costs him, as Jedediah lands a hard blow to Seth’s head with his fist, sending him reeling backwards. Jedediah is pretty cocky for a slack jawed idiot but Seth has to admit that the fight isn't going to be as easy as he hoped. It’s no use thinking about Richie, he’s gone and the sooner Seth gets used to that the better it will be. The hillbilly is grinning at him, bobbing and weaving like he was Rocky or some shit so Seth decides enough is enough. He feigns to left before quickly lurching right, his fist striking out like a snake as smashes into the side of Jedediah’s jaw. There’s a dull cracking sound and Seth feels his knuckle break just as Jedediah’s tooth goes flying across the floor as his opponent crumples to the floor in a heap.

 

“WIN FOR BUTCH CASSIDY!” the announcer is yelling as some boos and cheers ring out from the crowd. 

 

Seth’s hands are dripping blood, both his own and Jedediah’s, but he’s is already making a beeline for the skinny kid with bright red hair and a septum ring that he had clocked as soon as he came in. Ten minutes later he’s handed over almost half his winnings and has a baggie full of heroin and some clean needles tucked safely in his pocket. Without even bothering to clean himself up, he drives away from the pit and ducks into a spit of land behind some deserted old building. Night has fallen outside so anyone that was walking past would just be looking at a parked car and not someone who’s about do their own body weight in heroin. It takes him barely five minutes to cook his drugs and get the needle inserted into his vein; he doesn't need a helper this time. The first wave of the drug hitting his system is pure bliss and he sighs happily as he sinks back into the seat. All thoughts of Richie are pushed far from his mind, as the opiates encircle his brain and his eyes slide shut.

 

 

It’s daylight outside by the time Seth wakes up from his drug induced stupor; his face once again stuck to the upholstery of the back seat of his car. The heat and lack of food and water is making his head pound but he can’t summon enough energy to care anymore. Something had woke him though, he’s sure of that, and he jumps slightly as something raps loudly on his window. Groggily, he looks up to find the same old guy from before staring back at him.

 

“You needin some help there son?” he asks again and Seth looks around bewilderedly until he realises that the patch of dirt he parked in was actually the back lot of a small dingy bar. 

 

“Ah said, you need some help there son?” the old guy repeats as he bangs on the window again whilst Seth frantically brushes the used needle onto the floor and out of sight before its’ spotted. 

 

“Uhhh,” is all he can mumble, his mouth feels like its full of sand and his head just won’t stop spinning.

 

Before he can even get a proper sentence out, the old geezer is pulling open the car door and dragging Seth out with a surprising amount of strength.

 

“Come on, you come along inside with me.” the old man drawls as he pushes Seth towards the back entrance of the bar, “Get yuself cleaned up.”

 

Without waiting for an answer, he starts to make his way back to the bar, leaving Seth to trail along after him. There’s dried blood still caked into his hands and without even looking in a mirror he knows he looks like shit; what is this old guy playing at?

 

“Names Merle by the way,” the old guy tells him as he leads Seth past the dank cellar and into a tiny room at the back of the bar, “This here’s ma place; Jaspers.”

 

It’s a lot of information for Seth’s distorted brain to take it and he just nods dumbly as Merle ushers him into what looks like a makeshift storage room. 

 

“What?” he drawls as he points Seth over to the tiny cot in the corner, “You ain’t got no name or summit?”

 

“Butch,” Seth grumbles as he eases himself down onto the creaky old cot, his bones are aching just from the effort from walking from his car to inside the car.

 

“Butch huh?” Merle asks, his wiry eyebrows raised almost to his hairline, “Like Cassidy? Where’s the Sundance kid at?”

 

“Yeah, like Cassidy,” Seth mutters as he picks at the wraps on his hands and ignores the other question; Richie always did prefer Robert Redford.

 

“You can take a rest here if you want,” Merle tells him as he hands Seth over a towel, “Take a load off till you get yourself straighten out.”

 

“I’m fine,” Seth snaps as he throws the towel to one side; why can’t the old fart just leave him be?

 

“Bullshit,” Merle cusses sternly, “You’d have driven into some ditch somewhere if I let you drive off, state you’re in.”  

 

“Whatever,” Seth mutters as he wipes the sweat of his face with the towel, it comes back smeared with all kinds of crap and Merle looks at him pityingly. 

 

“Like ah said, get you’self cleaned up,” Merle repeats as he heads over to the door, “I’ll fix you somthin ta eat.”

 

He shuts the door before Seth can tell him he doesn't want any damn food or whatever the hell else Merle insists on giving him; he didn't ask to be taken in like some stray dog begging for scraps. Groaning loudly to himself, Seth rests his head on the pillow and shuts his eyes and tires to sleep, even though he knows it’s pointless. The first night he’d ran away and finally succumbed to the two bottles of whisky he’d been drinking, while driving erratically in any direction, and collapsed onto the backseat he’s had awful, terrifying nightmares. It was always the same thing; Richie screaming in the dark, begging Seth to come help him. Now it’s all he see’s whenever he shuts his eyes and Seth is terrified he’ll see that haunting image, over and over again until it sends him mad. The only thing that will stop the dreams is to either drink or drug himself into unconsciousness but after laying there for a few more minutes, Seth gives up and heads over to the tiny sink in the corner. 

 

The binds on his hands are stiff with dried blood and it takes him a while to unravel them; his hands can’t seem to stop shaking. Once he’s finally managed to peel them off he finds that at least one of his knuckles is busted and the rest don’t look much better. He tries to flex his fingers but the pain shooting through them is almost unbearable so he gives up and throws the blood stained material into the trash can.

 

Patching up Seth had always been Richie’s job; even back when they were both small and too young to be fixing up cuts and bruises. Seth smiles to himself, almost wistfully, as he remembers how Richie would sit perched across from him and carefully set out the first aid kit that they dragged about with them. Uncle Eddie had insisted that they have one and had even packed one up of them because “You two dummies are always getting into scrapes.”Richie had a set routine which he wouldn't deviate from, no matter where they were, and there would always be a figure or fact about the infection rate or some other piece of information that only Richie seemed to think was worth knowing. Seth would just groan and tell Richie to get the fuck on with it so he could find a bar and drink away the pain from whatever injury he had picked up. That would earn him a tut and eye roll, as Richie pushed his glasses up to the end of his nose and carefully set about undoing the damage Seth’s big mouth had got him into. Then, once Richie had gotten into his stride, Seth’s final performance could finally begin. He’d always viewed fighting as a bit like being in a film and would reel off his monologue about how he’d had the other guy on the ropes and taken him down in a single punch, like the hero fighter’s always used to do, whilst Richie would mutter “Uh huh” at all the important bits. 

 

Richie isn't here to fix him up like he normally does though, Seth thinks bitterly as he sticks his hands under the hot water faucet. He realises his mistake almost instantly as the pressure from the water on his injured hands is almost unbearable and he lets out a string of curses. 

 

“Mother fucker, mother fucker!” he mutters as he finally manages to get the cold tap on; Richie had always made him put his hands in a bowl of cold water before he did anything. 

 

Seth really should have paid attention more but his mouth and his ego had always been on the big side and he was far more interested in impressing his brother. Richie had always been Seth’s favourite audience, and he’d embellish little pieces here and there and turn a regular bar fight into some kind of Steven Segal movie by the time he had finished. It wasn't that he sought Richie’s approval; he just wanted to impress him and be the cool one, the one that everyone else wanted to be like. Seth just had to be number one all the time, it was like a drug to him, and it often left Richie relegated to the sidelines; no matter that Richie was the smart one, the one that planned everything out right down to the last detail. 

 

“Shit,” Seth hisses as he tries to gently clean the caked on blood from his hands, “What the fuck have done to yourself Gecko?”

 

As he attempts to sort his hands out, Seth thinks bitterly about how he should have done more to stop Richie feeling like he was the loser, the crazy one in the family. If Richie hadn't been so determined to prove that he was just as capable as being the leading man as Seth was, then maybe they wouldn't have ended up in this whole damn mess. Seth sniffs awkwardly as he pushes back the tears that are threatening to fall; He should have done more to protect Richie, even if it was only from himself.

 

“Stupid little shit,” Seth mumbles, as the cold water starts to ease the pain in his hands and he lets it wash over them for a while, watching as the water runs pink down the plug hole.

 

Somehow Seth never seemed to be able to do the same back for his brother, not even when he knew that Richie was hurting himself. Dealing with anything like that was just too difficult for him to handle and Richie was always more or less ok. He would never complain when, as soon as he’d finished patching Seth up, Seth would on the hunt for a bottle and some chick he could fuck; fighting and sex seemed to go hand and hand with him. Richie had never been a people person so Seth just figured that his brother preferred his own company. And look where that assumption had got them? Richie talking to people in his fucking head because Seth hadn't pushed him enough into the spotlight.

 

“Fucking asshole,” Seth grumbles, more to himself than to anybody else as he finishes cleaning up his hands. 

 

In the end he makes a poor job of it; he should have paid more attention when Richie told him all the names of the tendons and the bones as he set Seth’s knuckles back in place. Somehow Richie always managed to do it without making it hurting but Seth had never listened. He just figured he’d always have Richie around to do it for him.

 

Without even thinking; Seth slams his clenched fist into the concrete wall. The pain is instant but Seth is past caring as he slams into the wall again. It’s a welcome distraction as it’s easier to feel his knuckles shattering again then the all consuming pain that has come with losing his brother.

 

“YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE SOMEWHERE I’M NOT!” he screams as he pounds the wall with his fist again and again and again until blood runs down his hand a drips onto the floor. 

 

Breathing heavily; Seth watches it puddle next to his foot for a minute or two, wishing that it was more, that his veins would just bleed dry and he could die right here on the filthy bathroom floor. There’s nothing left here for him, but he’s too much of a coward to actually do anything about it. He’d rather a slow death with the heroin and just let himself rot into tiny pieces until there’s nothing left of Seth Gecko.

 

 “I got you some food sitting out on the bar,” Merle is back, and Seth looks at him wild eyed with his hand raised to strike the wall again, “Make sure you don’t drip blood over my nice clean bar top.”

 

He shuffles off and Seth lets his hand fall limply to his side; something about Merles reminds him of Uncle Eddie and how disappointed he would be if he knew what a mess Seth and Richie had gotten themselves into. In the end Seth trudges after the wrinkled old man and makes his way through to the bar.

 

 

Merle’s bar, Jaspers, is your typical hole in the wall dive bar with a low ceiling, barely any lights and mismatched chairs and wonky tables. Its the type of place that Richie and Seth would frequent a lot on the road as nobody ever bothered you; even if you dressed like an undertaker or bible salesman. Merle is waiting at the other side of the bar for him with a plate of what looks like chilli and a bottle of whisky and a shot glass. Seth hadn't realised just how hungry he was until the smell of the food hits his nose and he all but throws himself onto the bar stool and digs in. Merle watches him carefully for a few minutes but Seth ignores the old mans staring and devours his food. 

 

“I seen your type before boy,” Merle says as Seth polishes off the last of the chilli, “You hurtin’ real bad and all that poison your putting in your veins ain’t gonna help none.”

 

Seth glowers at him before he picks up the whisky and pours himself a large shot and downs it. Then he does another one just to be an asshole as Merle raises his eyebrows at him. 

 

“What would you know about, you old shit bag?” Seth slurs as he pours himself yet another shot, “Ain’t nothin wrong with me.”

 

“Huh, don’t seem that way to me son,” Merle says, ignoring the shit bag comment, “You in the fighting pits and that devils poison real bad. You either runnin’ from something or you tryin’ to forget something.”

 

“Fuck you,” Seth mumbles as he clumsily pours himself another drink; he doesn't need this old man sticking his nose in where its not wanted. 

 

“So it’s someone, just as I thought,” Merle says carefully as he pours himself a shot and downs it, “Someone that would be really pissed off to learn ‘bout what you bin doin’ to youself. Ain’t that right?”

 

Seth just snorts; Richie would be pissed as hell if he found at that Seth was back on the drugs. It doesn't matter though, Richie is gone so Seth can do whatever the hell he likes with his body. Merle still seems to be waiting on an answer though.

 

“Brother,” Seth grunts out eventually as he looks determinedly at the bar top.

 

“Younger or older?” Merle queries.

 

“Younger.”

 

“Ain’t that the worst,” Merle sighs as he runs a rag over the bar top, “Young’uns ain’t supposed to go before us old fellas’, just you remember that.”

He smiling at Seth but Seth choses to ignore him in favour of getting another drink; he doesn't feel much like talking about all the ways he was a shitty brother with some random old dude. 

 

“You feelin’ like you din look out for him?” Merle is going on and Seth’s anger is starting to rise as some of his observations hit home, “Like you wasn’t there when he needed you?”

 

“Richie ain’t dead,” Seth shouts as he jabs his finger vaguely at Merle, “He’s just gone!”

 

“Gone don’t mean you can’t find him again boy,” Merle says quietly and Seth’s anger reaches breaking point. How the fuck is Seth supposed to do anything to help Richie?!

 

“Why you so interested huh?” Seth snarls as he snatches up the bottle and splashes liquor all over the counter top, “What the fuck does my life have to do with you?”

 

Merle looks at him for what seems like an age, his deep brown eyes boring down into Seth, before he sighs heavily and tugs an old, battered picture down from the bunch stuck up behind the bar. He hands it over to Seth who grudgingly accepts it; it’s a picture of Merle in his much younger days, with his arm thrown across the shoulder of skinny looking teenage boy. Seth feels his throat tighten as he hands the picture back over to Merle. 

 

“This my baby brother Jasper, funniest kid I ever met, man could he make me laugh!” Merle says fondly as his fingers trace across the photograph, “I used to walk him hope from school, my mamma was a useless old drunk and our daddy took off so I damn near raised that kid.”

 

Seth raise the bottle to his lip; he knows that story all too well himself.

 

“One day I was late, foolin’ around with some waitress, can’t even remember her name,” Merle continues and his eyes go sorrowful as he strokes the outline of his brothers face, “Jasper wasn’t there when I finally got round to him. Din come home for his supper neither.”

 

There’s a pause and Seth waits in silence as Merle angrily brushes tears away from his eyes. It seems like a long time before the old geezer starts speaking again.

 

“We found his body weighed down in the old creek,” Merle says quietly and Seth can only look at him in sadness, “His head smashed in, raped.”

 

Seth sits quietly as he waits for Merle to compose himself and tries not to think about his own brother, lost and gone forever. 

 

“Everyone in that town knew who it was, fella named Donnie, skipped out on doin’ time for messin’ around with some boys in another town, his Uncle was on the police force,” Merle says bitterly as he pins the photo back safely up on the wall before he turns back to Seth, the anger in his voice evident, “Nobody did a damn thing; Jasper was just some poor kid from the wrong side of the tracks. Ain’t nobody gonna care about a kid like that.”

 

“You going to tell me that that’s just how life is huh?” Seth snarls with more force then he intended but Merle talking about dead brothers is hitting far too close to home for him, “Some people just die and you gotta get over it? Is that what you did?”

 

“I’ll tell you what I did, you ungrateful little brat,” Merle spits back at him and his whole face changes to a seething mass of rage, “I rode that son of a bitch down and beat him bloody with my own two hands, even when he was dead I kept goin till his head looked like a fucking watermelon.” 

 

Seth can only stare at him as Merle’s eyes fill with furry and he slams his fist down on the bar top.

 

“Smashed his head in till the white meat showed and then some,” Merle tells him as he snatches the bottle away from Seth, “Did three dimes for it, but it was worth every second. Ain’t nobody gone do that to my baby brother and get away with it.”

 

Merle drains a good portion of the bottle in one go before he hands it back to Seth.

 

“Blood is blood,” he tells Seth as he leans in close, “You don’t let that shit go without one hell of a fight.”

 

“HE LEFT FIRST OK!” Seth shouts suddenly, as he slams his fist down on the far top so hard that some of the old drunks lift their heads up to stare at him, “IT WAS HIM THAT LEFT ME FIRST!”

 

It’s a lie, a lie he’s been telling himself ever since Richie ran off with that snake woman and Seth ended up with Taylor Swift as a traveling companion. It was Seth that had bailed out first and landed himself in jail like a class A moron. Those five years away from Richie had been like a constant ache in his chest, not knowing how he was or what he was doing. All they’d ever had was each other, not even Uncle Eddie could fill the void left by an absentee mom and a abusive alcoholic dad. Richie had always been like a constant shadow at his side, something that he never had to worry about not being there like is arm or his foot. Seth used to play this game when he was a kid; he’d set Richie down on the floor and then run as fast as he could and see how long it would take Richie to crawl after him. Richie used to find that shit hilarious and would giggle away until Seth picked him and started the whole thing over again. Seth had always prided himself on being the only person that could make Richie laugh properly, just seems like they hadn't had much to laugh about lately. If Seth had been there like he was supposed to be, he _knows_ he could have stopped Santanico worming his way into Richie’s head. Maybe Richie wouldn't have been so lonely that he had to resort to talking to people in his head in the first place.

 

“Bet he came right back to ya though,” Merle says quietly, breaking Seth out of his painful memories, “Didin he?”

 

Seth doesn't say anything because the old man is right; Richie did come back in the end. He may as well have stayed gone though, after the way Seth had treated him and spent most of the time they were back together blaming Richie for Kate’s apparent death. Deep down he knew it wasn’t really Richie’s fault, Richie would have never laid a finger on that girl and would have taken the bullet for her if he could. It was just far easier to blame his ‘monster’ brother than to admit that it was his fault that Kate had been hurt. She was another person that Seth had just dumped on the side of the road like a piece of trash.

 

“If I had my time again I’d be waiting on the corner like I was supposed to be, make sure nothin’ happened to that kid,” Merle tells him as he pushes the bottle out of Seth’s reach, “What would you do if you had your time again? Sit here drinkin yourself to death? Or would you be lookin’ out for that boy of yours?”

 

He’s probably waiting for Seth to give some big speech about how he’s going to save Richie but all Seth can see in his head is that hot orange flame and the smell or burning skin as Richie disappeared right before his eyes.

 

“I need to take a piss,” Seth says bluntly as he all but flees from the bar to the tiny bathroom at the back.

 

He’s sweating bullets and the little bag of heroin had been burning a hole in his pocket ever since he got here. Merle’s little story had been too much, too far close to the bone of what he’d just went through only Seth didn't have anyone he could hunt down and strike vengeance upon. If there had have been, Seth wouldn’t have been sat drowning his sorrows in a bar; he would have been out there putting bullets through heads. The only thing Seth has to kill is his memories.

 

The needle slides in easily; just like last time and the sting is minimal. It’s beginning to feel like old times again, where the scratch of the needle fades into the background as the drugs hit his system. All thoughts of vampires, crazy hell queen and his little brother being ripped away from him blissfully begin to slide away. The rate he’s going, he’ll be dead within two months which he’s more than ok with. Seth slumps down on the upturned toilet and shuts his eyes, shutting out the daylight and letting the darkness takeover. This is what he always does when things get tough; pretend like nothing is happening. Just like he pretended that Richie was fine and that, talking out loud to invisible people, was just something that would go away on it’s own; it was just Richie being weird as usual. But he _knew_ , knew as soon as he clapped eyes on Richie after all those years that something was wrong with his brother and Seth had just brushed it off and carried on going.

 

“Shit,” Seth mutters as the needle clatters to the floor and he forces his eyes open.

 

Richie had been so angry the first time he had found Seth slumped on the bathroom floor with a needle in his arm. Not that Seth remembers that; he’d been far too gone at the time and had woken up in bed, perfectly placed in the recovery position. It’s almost funny that Kate had had the same reaction Richie did, when she first found Seth with and needle in his arm; fear and then extreme annoyance. Granted, Kate hadn't knocked him out and hand cuffed him to a radiator for two weeks and staged a one man intervention like Richie had. That was an experience to say the least, and in the end Seth had played on Richie’s naivety, he’d always had a silver tongue, and promised him a whole bunch of crap until he knew he had Richie convinced. It had killed him to trick his brother like that, but not enough that he wasn't already planing on where he could get a fix from. To say Richie had been disappointed in him was an understatement but Seth had carried on until the next drug induced stupor Richie had to drag him out of. It wasn't all that big of deal to Seth, drugs just made him feel better, but then Richie had said the four little words that Seth had spent his whole life trying not to be; “You’re just like dad”.

 

“Nuthin, fucking like dad,” he mumbles to himself as his eyes slide shut again. 

 

It’s a least half an hour before Seth wakes up again and vomits loudly in the toilet. Dragging his hand across his mouth, he stumbles to the sink and splashes some water on his face. Glancing up, Seth catches sight go himself in the mirror; puffy eyes, sunken skin, three days worth of beard growth and a couple of bruises where Jedediah’s fist had struck home. Scrubbing his hand over his facial hair, Seth thinks back to all the times he used to tease Richie something awful about his lack of facial hair. Eddie would have known what to do, he thinks bitterly as he takes a good look at his reflection, Eddie would have known exactly how to help Richie. He was always good at figuring out how to talk to Richie about whatever it was that was flying around in his head, stuff that Seth just couldn't unravel no matter how hard he tried. But Eddie was gone, just like Richie.

 

“What the fuck am I supposed to do with out you buddy?” Seth whispers, wishing more than anything that Richie would answer him. 

 

There’s nothing left for him out there anymore; only drugs, booze and whatever hole he can find to die in. He can’t stand the sight of that empty seat next to him; he couldn't six months ago when he knew that Richie was still out in the world and he sure as hell couldn't now. Trying to fill that void with Kate as his “Partner” had been stupid and reckless; nothing, not even a pretty young girl, would ever replace the hole that Richie had left in his heart.

 

 

It’s a short walk back from the grimy bathroom to the bar, but it seems to stretch out for miles and Seth wobbles dangerously in his inebriated state. He wouldn't normally shoot up in such a public place but its not like he’s got anything to lose. Some fat fucker knocks his elbow and almost sends him spinning into a table.

 

“Watch it,” Seth snarls as he catches himself, “Fucking asshole.”

 

The fat guy hears him and turns around in annoyance but Seth carries on his journey back to the relative safety of the bar. His legs are already beginning feel like lead and he’s almost made it, when a horribly familiar voice calls out behind him.

 

 

“Well, well what have we got here? Seth Gecko as I live and breath!”

 

Seth stumbles around to see Charlie Pinkman, a scrawny little shit that he and Richie had stitched up over a job a few years back. Last Seth had heard, Charlie was over at the County Lockup looking at five to ten for armed robbery. Seth’s also pretty sure that he may have slept with Charlie’s fiancee a couple of times as well. He’s grinning at Seth and he’s acquired a few more broken teeth since the last time Seth saw him, and he clearly hasn't forgotten about being rolled over by the Gecko brothers.

 

“Man, I thought you was dead!” he draws as he jumps up from the table he’s sat at stalks towards Seth, “That’s what it said on the tv, The Infamous Gecko brothers, burnt alive like a couple of hot dogs. Yet here you are!”

 

Seth stands his ground, there’s no way he’s going to let Charlie Pinkman, of all people, trash talk him. It’s only then that his wobbly vision notices the two lackeys move up either side of Charlie; great. 

 

“Yep, Here I am,” Seth slurs as he tries to stop his vision doubling up. Richie would never let him live it down if he got his ass handed to him by Charlie Pinkman, even if he was high as shit.

 

“Here you are!” Charlie repeats gleefully, he’s right in the centre of the room now and people are starting to stare at them. Seth really doesn’t have time for this; he’s supposed to be enjoying his hit of heroin whilst drinking himself into oblivion. 

 

“WE GOT SETH GECKO IN THE BUILDING EVERYBODY!” Charlie shouts suddenly as he claps his hands joyfully, now _everybody_ is looking at him,“THE GOLDEN BOY HIMSELF!”

 

“Gecko? Like them boys on the news?”

 

Seth heart sinks a little as Merle comes out from behind the bar, looking beseechingly at him with those sunken old eyes of his.

 

“Yeah,” Seth sighs, as he smiles sadly at Merle, “Like those boys on the news.”

 

Charlie is smirking at him now as he circles Seth like a shark, pushing Merle out of the way as he gets closer to Seth. His henchmen, who Seth has decided to name Meat and Potatoes, chuckle foolish and Seth is starting to remember why they dined and dashed on Charlie in the first place; because he was an idiot.

 

“Always did think you was hot shit didn't you?” Charlie sneers as he walks around behind Seth, “Had to be better than anybody else didn't you? The big man!”

 

There’s an audible sound of a shotgun being pumped and they all turn around to find Merle behind the bar, a shotgun clenched tightly in his hands.

 

“Get outta ma bar, you jumped up little shit!” he snarls, his shotgun aimed squarely at Charlie’s head.

 

“Wow, wow, wow,” Charlie panders as he backs up a little, his hands up in surrender mode “Me and your boy here go way back, don’t we Seth?”

 

“Its ok Merle,” Seth says quietly as he looks over at the old bartender, “Charlie’s right; we’re old friends.”

 

Merle looks between them for a moment or two before he finally lowers the shotgun, muttering about young’uns and disrespect for elders as he trudges off back to the other end of the bar; his eagle eyes watching them all the while.

 

“Ain’t that right,” Charlie sneers as he gets right up in Seth’s face, “Now where’s that crazy retard brother of yours?”

 

He’s looking around like he thinks Richie’s going to pop out from behind a table or something. They’d actually tried that trick once before, it was one of their first small jobs, and had rolled about laughing in the car afterwards at how well it worked.

 

“Gone,” Seth says shorty, he doesn't feel much like getting into the whole supernatural element of Richie’s departure with Charlie.

 

“Gone?” Charlie asks incredulously and he’s still looking a little nervous, Richie’s title of the “Crazy One” had been very far reaching, “You ain’t lost the poor bastard have you?”

 

Seth jaw clenches and he tries to ignore the noise in his head that he always hears when he tries to sleep; Richie screaming for him in the darkness. He couldn't help Richie back when they were kids and he sure as hell can’t help him now. 

 

“You tell me where he is, before a put a fucking bullet in your head,” Charlie hisses as he pokes Seth hard in the chest, “That fucked up piece of shit is the reason why I lost eight years of my fucking life!”

 

Seth snorts at him; Charlie was dumber than a box of rocks ands was an inconvenience to the whole crew; he’d have got himself caught sooner or later. Plus, he was always picking on Richie so Seth had made the executive decision to leave him stranded in a bank vault, whist Richie had tinkered with the lock so he couldn't get out. Nobody else on the job had disagreed with him at the time and Charlie was left to dry out in jail.

 

“Like I said,” Seth mumbles, the heroin is really starting to mess with his head now, “I ain’t seen him.”

 

“Well ain’t you dumb as shit, just like your daddy!” Charlie hoots as Meat and Potato guffaw loudly next to him, “I’m gonna say it one more time; where is that fucknut you call a brother hiding out at?”

 

Seth’s vision is really starting to blur now and his head is being to fill up with miss matched images of Richie being engulfed in fire, Richie as a little kid running around after him, the two of the laughing about some dumb film they had been watching. He pushes the heel of his hand into his eyes and tries the rub the images away; next to him, Charlie is still talking.

 

“He didn’t he finally manage to do himself in, did he?” he says, the malevolence evident in his voice, “I bet he cut the right way this time, probably sick of your dumb ass.”

 

Charlie pulls on a crazy face and mimes slitting his wrists; much to the delight of his idiot sidekicks. There’s another flicker of a memory, one that both Gecko brothers never talk about, the one that Seth has buried so deep, the one where he had slipped over in Richie’s blood as he hauled his teenage brother up off the bathroom floor. 

 

“Oh yeah we all know about that,” Charlie jeers as he takes in the stricken look on Seth’s face, “What up fucked up piece of trash Richie really was.”

 

“ _Don’t_ ,” Seth says suddenly as his brain comes back online, “Don’t say his name.”

 

“Or what?” Charlie sneers at him, “Seems like you outnumbered, the old man don’t count and you don’t have you’re nut job of a brother to back you up.”

 

Seth should probably knock Charlie on his ass but his heart just isn't even in it anymore; what does he care if Charlie shoots him in the head? At least this horrible nightmare will be over and he can float off to wherever the hell he’s supposed to end up. 

 

“I always said that retard would meet a sticky end,” Charlie continues, sounding so horribly like Ray that it makes Seth flinch,  “I’m just surprised he didn't take you down with him.”

 

Unbeknown to anybody, thats exactly what Richie and Seth had planned if they had ever been caught to the point where there was noway out. It was either go over a cliff, Thelma and Louise style, or a double head shot. It was probably a pretty morbid thing to do but Seth sure as hell wasn't going back to prison and Richie would have ended up being left to rot in some psych ward. After all the stuff they'd done, it wasn't like they'd be looking at a short stretch either. Only Richie had gone and left on his own; leaving Seth to try and find some way of coping without him.

 

“That’s enough!” Merle yells as he suddenly reappears next to Seth, the shotgun still in his hands, “You’ve had your fun, go on now, get!”

 

Unmoved by the old mans speech, Charlie just laughs at Merle, even if he is holding a shotgun, and continues to loom large over Seth.

 

“Not till I’ve had a little talk with my friend here,” he tells Merle as he pushes the old man out of the way again.

 

Seth really should tell him to stop, Eddie would be rolling in his grave if he knew that Seth was letting someone talk to an elderly man like that. Eddie had always brought Seth and Richie up to be respectful and he’d be more than happy to give them a wallop if they even so much as cussed at the dinner table. Beads of sweat are starting to run into hie eyes and Seth wipes his sleeve across his sweaty face; it doesn't really do much other than to make him feel sick. The hit he’d had was barely even half his usual dose and the comedown if he didn't get another is going to be brutal.

 

“Man, you high as shit ain’t ya?” Charlie grins at him as he walks around Seth again, “Look at you, sweating like a whore in Texas.”

 

A kick to his back sends him crashing to his knees and then another, his already battered ribs protesting in agony, as Charlie pushes him face first onto the floor. Seth rolls over, clutching his side as he fights for air.

 

“HOW’D YOU LIKE THAT?” Charlie hollers as he kicks Seth again, “HOW’D YOU LIKE THAT; MR GOLDEN BOY?”

 

Seth can’t even be bothered to fight back, so he lets Charlie get a few more kicks in before he rolls onto his back and lays there. There’s just no point without Richie to show off for and despite the pain, he just feels numb and empty inside. Charlie, on the other hand, was clearly looking for a chance to get one over on the famous Seth Gecko and seems disappointed in Seth’s lack fight.

 

“Get up,” he snarls as he hauls Seth up to his feet, “Get your fucking ass up!”

 

Seth stands there, swaying back and forth slightly as he tries to focus on Charlie’s face but his mind is playing tricks on him again and right at the back of the bar, he see’s Richie.

 

“Aren’t you going to fight for yourself?” he asks but even as Seth blinks, Richie is gone.

 

Without even thinking, his fist connects with Charlie’s face; splitting his lip and breaking his nose all in one go. There’ a howl of rage in front of him but Seth is still looking for Richie, praying that he hasn't lost him again. 

 

“MY FUCKING FACE!” Charlie cries through a mouthful of blood as he motions Meat and Potatoes forward. 

 

They lumber up to Seth, two large idiots with no real fighting skills other than using their size against their opponent. Seth could take them down easy, one by one like dominos, if he was so inclined to do so. His head is still full of Richie though, the one person that had always stuck with him and Seth just can’t see any kind of a life without him. If the drugs aren't going to kill him, then maybe Meat and Potatoes can do the job for him. His eyes shut just as Meat’s huge fist starts coming towards him. There’s a strangled cry of pain, but its not coming from Seth.

 

Seth opens his eyes to find Zolo, of all people, standing in front of him with his hand outstretched to stop Meat’s punch. He looks a little different than from the last time Seth saw him, the time when Zolo was trying to kill both him and Richie, all though he’s still shirtless. 

 

“What the fuck?” Meat grumbles dumbly as he looks at Seth who just shrugs. Perhaps it will be a Jaguar that kills him after all. 

 

“Leave,” Zolo tells the two thugs as they continue to stare at him in bewilderment, “Now!”

 

“Don’t just stand there,” Charlie spits through a mouthful of blood, “GET HIM.”

 

Meat is apparently the braver of the two, and lets fly a right hook which Zolo catches out of the air with apparent ease. His massive hand closes around Meat’s fist, causing the thug to let out an anguished scream, as the sound of his fingers breaking echo’s round the bar. Seth has barely time to register what the big dude is doing here, before Potato rushes forward with a below and smashes a wooden chair straight across Zolo’s back. It shatter’s sending bits of broken wood flying in all directions but Zolo barely even breaks a sweat as he twists Meat’s hand around causing him to howl in agony. 

 

“Leave now,” Zolo repeats as he finally lets Meat’s hand go, “Or I shall break more than bones.”

 

Potato looks to Charlie; clearly unsure of what to do as his buddy withers around in pain on the floor. Charlie takes one look at Zolo’s massive biceps and bolts for the door, leaving Potato to haul Meat to his feet and scramble up after him.

 

Once they’re gone, Zolo takes a step back, his massive arms hanging down like tree trunks as he stares over at Seth. 

 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Seth asks as he dusts himself off before turning to the other patrons, “Shows over everybody. Go back to your booze.”

 

The old drunks all pretend like they haven't been watching the whole thing unfold for the last twenty minutes and go back to their beers. 

 

“I did not come alone,” Zolo replies as he motions behind Seth, who sighs heavily. Great, probably some more Jaguar Ninja’s or what ever the hell Thunder the Barbarian was supposed to be. His past seems to have a habit of catching up with him these days.

 

“Seth?” 

 

Seth turns around, the half bottle of bourbon raised to his lips, to find Kate, Scott and Sex Machine standing behind him. Zolo gives him a curt nod before he strides back over to Kate’s side, his massive height making her look even smaller than usual. Sex Machine is hovering slightly apart from the rest of them, like he’s not sure how this is going to go down but is already planning his escape.

 

“Well, well, if it isn't the Brady Bunch. I see Conan the Barbarian made the cut,” Seth slurs as he tries to focus on them, “Where’s the snake queen? How come she’s not part of your new super group? Couldn't make it to daytime get togethers?”

 

Seth laughs loudly at his own joke as he stumbles back over to the bar and throws himself onto a bar stool. The eyes of the other patrons are on them but Seth doesn't give two shits; let them call the police or whoever the hell else they want. He drains a couple more mouthfuls of liquor and tries to ignore the fact that Kate has suddenly appeared at his elbow.

 

“Seth?” she says, as she touches him on the arm, “You need to come with us.”

 

“No, I don’t Princess,” Seth tells her as he shrugs her off, earning him a very disapproving look from the Preachers daughter.

 

He glances sideways at her, she hasn't budged an inch despite his rudeness, and finds that Kate doesn't look half as dead as the last time he saw her. She could use a shower though; there’s a thick layer of grime covering her chalk white skin and her clothes are filthy. Kate’s once pristine brown locks have also run into some trouble, as it looks like someone has hacked half of it off with a pair of scissors. So much for all those extra towels she was always pestering Seth for, when they were trying to lay low in a succession of dingy motels. It’s whilst he’s looking at her that he notices that she doesn't look all that surprised to see him here, nor do the rest of her crew, so its unlikely that Kate stumbled upon him by accident. 

 

“We’ve found a way to get Richie out,” Kate tells him, getting straight down to the point as she crosses her arms in front of him, “Now put down that bottle and come with us.”

 

Seth snorts at her; as if he’s going to be told what to do by some little church mouse. For all he knows this could just be Amaru in disguise, trying to pull him into some other mess he never wanted to be involved in. She’s looking at him, those big green eyes full of such disappointment, and Seth knows then that it’s only Kate who’s in there. The only other person able to make him feel that shit about himself just by looking at him is Richie; no wonder those two were made for each other. However, what she’s doing with the rest of these idiots Seth neither wants to know nor cares; he just wants to finish his drink, shoot up some more and go and die in a ditch somewhere.

 

“Aren’t you listening to me?” Kate snaps at him and bringing him out of his reverie, “I said we found a way to help Richie!”

 

Her hand reaches out to take the bottle from her but, even in his inebriated state, Seth is still too quick for her and he smacks her hand away.

 

“Touch that again,” Seth snarls at her as he snatches up the bottle, “And this time I really will put a bullet in your knee.”

 

Kate’s nostrils flair but before she can even say anything, Thunder the Barbarian looms up behind her and places a protective hand on her shoulder.

 

“Miss Katherine?” Zolo asks, clearly he’s come to see if Kate needs protecting from the mean old drunk.

 

“I’m fine,” Kate assures him as she looks up at him, a tight smile on her face before she turns back to Seth, “Seth’s just upset.”

 

The fact that she’s being so calm jars in his head and Seth feels himself getting more angry by the minute. Kate Fuller is the last person that Seth had wanted to see; he’d thought for one tiny moment that Richie might be here when he saw Zolo but all he ended up with was a poor consolation prize.

 

“ _Upset_?” he seethes at her as he picks up his bottle again, “ _Upset_ doesn't even come close to what I feel Princess.”

 

He takes a long swig, ignoring her and all the rest of her little buddies. Annoyingly, Kate doesn't even flinch and continues to stare impassively at him, so he just drinks until he’s almost drained the whole bottle. She raises her eyebrows at him so Seth finishes the bottle of just to spite her, earning him a huff and an eye roll. She still doesn't shift her ass away from him though. Why won’t she just leave him alone? He’d told Scott to take her home, she had no business being out here or trying to tell him what to do.

 

“Are you done feeling sorry for yourself?” she asks him as Seth glares at her; why can’t she just leave? go back to whatever spit water town she came from and start over?

 

“Nope,” he retorts as he slams the empty bottle back down on the bar top, “MERLE! Another bottle of your finest whiskey please.”

 

Merle comes slopping down from the other end of the bar, his eyes flickering from Seth to Kate as he pulls out another bottle.

 

“We ain’t gonna have any trouble here,” he asks as he takes in the colossus that is Zolo, who is is still standing behind Kate, “Miss?”

 

“No we’re not,” Kate assures him as she turns on that pretty smile of hers, “Are we Seth?”

 

Seth just grumbles at her as he pulls the cap of the bottle and starts drinking again. Kate is practically tapping her foot with impatience but Seth isn't bothered; he’s not going anywhere with her or the rest of that rag tag bunch she’s got with her. 

 

“Are you still here?” he snaps at her, ignoring the muttered cruses words from Scott. If the kid has something to say, then he can sure as hell say it to Seth’s face.

 

“You can take that with you if you must,” Kate tells him impatiently as she tries to rouse him from his seat, “We’re waisting time just sitting around here.”

 

“I ain’t going anywhere with you.” Seth slurs as he takes another huge gulp of liquor.

 

“ _Yes_ ,” Kate says, “You are!”

 

Seth gives her a nasty look but his eyes are sliding in and out of focus and its hard to keep a thread of what she’s saying. 

 

“Oh my God,” she says suddenly, her eyes going wide with realisation, “You’re high aren't you? Oh for God sake Seth!”

 

“So?” Seth shrugs as he gropes around for the whisky bottle, “What is it to you?”

 

“Nothing,” Kate says, “But I’m sure Richie would be pretty disappointed to find you sat about with a needle in your arm instead of trying to help him!”

 

“Richie don’t give a shit about me,” Seth sulks as he takes another hit of booze, “You saw to that, didn't you Princess?”

 

She doesn't take the bait, even though her cronies are all looking furiously at Seth. Well, apart from Sex Machine; he rather seems to be enjoying their little exchange. 

 

“So you’re just going to sit here,” Kate asks him as she throws her hands up in frustration, “Wallowing in self pity?”

 

“What, you want me to come with you and play happy families? Seth jeers at her, “Pretend like Richie’s just gone on holiday or something?”

 

Kate lets out a howl of frustration as she slams her hand down on the bar top; her expression murderous.

 

“I already told you,” she snarls at him, “We found a way to get Richie back!”

 

Seth shakes his head and tries to push what she’s saying out of his head. There’s no way that they're getting Richie back; he’s gone and Kate will just have to accept that. Or drink herself to death like Seth is planning to do.

 

“And I already told you,” he snarls back at her as he gets right in her face, “Richie’s gone and he ain’t coming back.”

 

“That’s funny, I seem to remember you telling me that before,” Kate retorts sarcastically, “Turned out that wasn’t quite true now was it?”

 

Seth ignores her and turns back to his drink, the rest of her little band of misfits are whispering away behind him, probably trying to come up with some other plan to get him to go with him. It’s all lies anyway; Seth was the one who had to watch whist Richie got ripped away by some ball of fire, not Kate or Scott or any of the rest of these bastards. A flash of that fateful memory fliers before his eyes and he shuts them to try and block it out. its bad enough that he can;t sleep for thinking about Richie being dead, let alone having to relive the whole thing because Kate’s made up some fairy tale about getting him back.

 

“Leave me alone,” he mutters as he picks at the liquor bottle label; he’s well on his way to being completely trashed, or he would be if Scott had decided to interrupt him.

 

“Look asshole, Scott snarls as he barges his way in between Kate and Zolo, “We can get Richie out of Xibalba, isn’t that what you wanted?”

 

He looks all wound up and pissed; Seth hadn't thought Richie had meant that much to the youngest Fuller. But then, Richie had been hell bent on saving his sister so he probably feels like he owes Richie or something. Seth scows at him, if Scott was feeling so damn bad over Richie then he should have thrown himself into Xibalba instead.

 

“What I want is for you all to fuck off and leave me alone,” Seth tells him disinterestedly. Every time one of these assholes says Richie’s name its like a knife twisting in his chest. None of them really care about Richie; they were all quite happy to let him do all the brain work when it suited them, but then they just ditched him like everybody else. Seth had never understood that, why Richie always ended up being shoved to the side instead of in the spotlight like he should have been. You didn't exactly do anything to stop that did you, a nasty little voice inside his head tells him. It’s true anyway Seth thinks as he slumps miserably down into his stool.

 

“So you’re just going to pretend like Richie never existed?” Scott berates him as he shoves Seth hard in the shoulder, “Act like he doesn't even matter?”

 

Seth’s got him pinned to the bar before the kid can even blink, his gun has already made it to his hand and is pointed directly at Scott’s slithery snake heart. The room goes still again and he can see fear in the boys eyes, behind him, Zolo moves forward and places a huge hand on his shoulder. 

 

“Don’t you _ever_ ,” he hisses as he leans in low to Scott’s face, “ _Ever_ presume to tell me about my own fucking brother.”

 

He pushes Zolo’s hand off him and shoves Scott away from him, so hard he almost sends Kate tumbling to the floor. Her eyes meet his, there’s anger burning in them and Seth’s fury begins to boil up inside him. Kate was already dead when she ran off to that stupid blood well. As soon as they had gotten wind of what Amaru was, he should have taken Kate out just like she had asked, just like he had prepared himself to do. It was the easiest option all round but Richie had to be the good guy, he thinks bitterly, the one that wanted to save the girl. Seth had pretended to agree with him but as soon as Richie’s back was turned he wouldn't hesitate to stick a bullet between Kate’s eyes. There was no way of knowing Kate was even still in there anyway but Richie kept insisting that she was, that he could save her. He should have been more insistent with Richie, they’d been down this road before with Santanico and look what happened there! They say that love is blind and but look where Richie’s good intentions had gotten him, ripped away from the person he was supposed to be saving and his own brother.  

 

“You should have stayed on the side of the road where I left you,” he tells Kate nastily, his voice full of venom as he glares at her, “If you hadn't have run off to that blood well, you wouldn't have got yourself shot and made Richie think he had to save your dumb ass. None of this would have ever happened!”

 

Kate reels a bit, like his words are like a slap in the face to her, but she recovers quickly and her eyes narrow dangerously at him. 

 

“That’s a nice story Seth,” Kate tells him bitterly, “But I didn't ask to be kidnaped did I? I didn't ask for any of this! We’re stuck together now whether you like it or not. Richie saved us both, more than once and you owe it to him to at least try and help him!”

 

Seth drains half the bottle of whiskey in one go as he tries to pretend that the impact of her words haven't had any affect on him. He doesn't need her telling him this was all down to him, he already knows that but he just can’t shake the need to be cruel to her, to pass some of the blame he feels off onto her.

 

“This is all on you Princess,” Seth slurs as he squares up to Kate, “This is the third boy you’ve gotten killed. I don’t much fancy being the forth.”

 

This time his words hit their mark and Kate gives a sharp intake of breath and her eyes fill with tears. If Seth felt the tiniest bit guilty he would take his words back but he wants to push her away, to make her leave, and pulling up the painful incidents of her past seems the easiest way to do it. 

 

“That wasn't my fault!” Kate cries angrily as she brushes tears away from her eyes, “I didn't know what was going to happen to them!”

 

“You keep telling yourself that, darling,” Seth drawls as he goes to pick up his bottle, “Have a nice life.”

 

“Sulk all you want,” Kate tells him, her hands on her hips and a look of steely determination in her eyes, “But you’re not going _anywhere_ until we’ve found Richie!”

 

“ _For the last fucking time_ ,” Seth seethes as he pounds the counter top hard with his fist, “Richie isn’t coming back! He’s gone for good this time, no thanks to you, and no amount of praying or whatever the hell it is you do is going to change that!”

 

They're really getting into it now and Seth can’t help but feel a little glad he finally has a punching bag to take his anger out on. Kate apparently feels the same way as she doesn't hold back as she all but pulls him off his stool.

 

“NO HE ISN’T!!” she screams at him as all the old boozers turn to look at her, “What have you got to lose just by trying? Or are you just going to sit around here drinking yourself to death?”

 

“You know wha I'm going to do? I'm going to go home, take the needle I’ve got in my pocket,” Seth gloats as he pulls his last bag of heroin out his pocket and twirls it in her face, “And send myself to a place where I can pretend that I never met _you_ or your stupid family.”

 

“Hey! You picked us asshole!” Scott chimes in angrily as he makes a move towards Seth, “Or did you forget that?!”

 

The kid is really pissing him off now, acting like the tough guy when he was the one that let Amaru escape when they could have sorted out this whole mess with Tanner’s exorcism. 

 

“Oh who are you? Just some dumb fucking kids and this piece of trash,” Seth snarls as he points to Sex Machine who looks scandalised, “And I don’t know who the fuck you are,” he says as he gestures towards Zolo, “But you better get off this crazy train before little miss sunshine here gets you killed.”

 

Zolo remains impassive towards Seth’s insults but his eyes linger on the needle marks on Seth’s arm and the half drunk bottle in his hand. Weirdly, it makes Seth feel guilty, like it was Richie watching him that disapproving look he always had whenever Seth extra recreational activities got out of hand.

 

“What the fuck are you looking at?” he asks the warrior, as he gulps down another mouthful of alcohol. 

 

“I am the guardian,” Zolo begins as he stands tall and proud amounts the rest of them, “Your brother sent-”

 

“SHUT UP!” Seth roars and he’s two steps away from hitting the Man Mountain straight across the jaw, “SHUT THE FUCK UP WOULD YOU?”

 

Seth has had enough of them dragging Richie up, acting like they all knew him so well, not one of them gave two shits about him when he was alive. now all of a sudden they're so hell bent on rescuing him? The last time he saw Zolo he was beating the crap out of Richie! It’s Seth that dragged that kid up out the hole their father had created for them and he’d be damned if he was going to let them think that knew him better than his own blood.

 

“Richie didn't send you to do shit!” he rants, spit flying out of his mouth as he jabs his finger at Zolo, “Do you need me to spell it out for you?” 

 

“Seth, just listen to him!” Kate begs as she grabs hold of him by the front of his shirt, her big eyes turned towards his, “He heard Richie!”

 

This is about as much as Seth can take and he tries to pry her hands off him but Kate won’t let go.

 

“RICHIE IS GONE!!” he screams right in her face, “HE’S FUCKING GONE!!”

 

“NO HE ISN’T!” Kate screams back at him, “IF YOU WOULD JUST TAKE YOUR HEAD OUT OF YOUR ASS FOR FIVE MINUTES AND LISTEN TO ME; YOU MIGHT UNDERSTAND THAT!”

 

She lets go of him this time, a look a disgust blatant on her face and Seth is already wishing for old Kate back. The one that shut up and did what she was told back in the RV. The rest of the Brady Bunch are all crowding round him, all talking at once about some stupid plan of theirs that they cooked up. Even Tanner is in on the act now, going on about some stupid book, and Seth is wishing more and more that this was just a drug induced hallucination. He’d had one of them before but it was Kate, inexplicably, that appeared in his head and not the one person he actually wanted to see; Richie.

 

“Just listen to use Seth, please,” Scott begs as he pulls Kate out of the way, “We’ve got a plan, we can bring him home!”

 

“No you can’t!” Seth roars at him as he backs away from them all as sweat drips into his eyes, “Richie’s never had a fucking home, or didn't you know that?” 

 

“You’re his home Seth!” Kate shouts as she goes to grab hold of him again but this time he’s able to shake her off. 

 

He can’t deal with them all pretending that they care and that can actually give him the one thing that he wants more than anything. It’s like he's suffocating under the weight of it all, the realisation that he failed at doing the one thing that he was always supposed to do which was simply to look after Richie.

 

“No I’m not!,” he spits at her, “If I meant anything to him, then he wouldn't have thrown himself in that hell hole for you!”

 

And left me all alone without him, is what Seth leaves unsaid and as much as he doesn't want to admit it, he hate’s the fact that Richie chose someone else over him. Before Santanico, Seth had never had to worry about competing for Richie’s attention and he could always count on the fact that Richie would be there whenever Seth had finished messing around with some chick or generally being an asshole. 

 

“He did it for you as well!” Kate is trying to tell him but Seth is done listening to her, “He did it to save all of us!”

 

“Think what you want Princess, but it was _you_ that sent Richie on some suicide mission,” he snarls at her before he start’s yelling at her again, “WHY COULDN’T YOU JUST HAVE STAYED DEAD LIKE YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO?!”

 

There’s instant uproar behind him, Scott starts yelling, Zolo is giving him a look of deepest loathing whilst he mutters something in another language; even Tanner is saying “That was cold blooded, man.” It’s only Kate that doesn't react, her face white as marble, as she looks over at the drunken mess in front of her. She looks pretty pissed off now and Seth is hoping that his cruelty has finally hit home and that she’ll realises what a lost cause he is. Then perhaps he can finally get back to his poison and his needles. He turns his back on them all and resumes his position at the side of the bar, picking up where he left off with the whiskey. Kate doesn't seem quite done with him yet though.

 

“You know you really are pathetic,” she says quietly as she stands behind him, “I lost my mom, I lost my dad and I even lost myself. Why do your problems have to be worse then any body else's? Richie killed your own dad just to protect you, that’s how much he cares about you! But you cant even be bothered to help him, can you?”

 

The bottle pauses halfway to his lips, how the fuck does she know about Richie offing their pop? Whatever; it doesn't matter. Ray is dead, along with Eddie and now Richie. 

 

“No I can’t,” he says, “Now are you satisfied?”

 

“No, just disappointed,” Kate scoffs, like she was expecting him to be anything other than the terrible person he is, “But if you’re going to make me do this the hard way then so be it.”

 

“Make you do what?” Seth asks as he turns around to find Kate pointing a gun directly at him.

 

“Kate,” Scott hisses as he moves to her side, “What are you doing? This wasn't part of the plan!”

 

“I’m doing what needs to be done,” she tells him briskly, “If he won’t come willingly, then I’ll just have to make him. Get your ass up Gecko.”

 

Seth snorts at her; she’s not even holding the gun properly. 

 

“Are you going to shoot me Princess?” he mocks her as he clambers unsteadily to his feet and plants himself in front of her, “Isn’t that against your commandment thing? Don’t kill?”

 

“You bet your ass I am,” Kate snarls as she holds the gun steady, “And it’s Thou shalt not kill, asshole, and I all ready broke that commandment.”

 

“Ok Princess, How about I give you a clean shot?” he smirks as he pulls his shirt open to expose his chest, “Come on I’ll make it easy for you, I’ll-”

 

Before he can even get to the end of the sentence; Kate’s finger squeezes on the trigger and two metal prongs hit him squarely in the chest, sending his body crashing to the floor as electricity courses through it.

 

 

“KATE!” Scott yells as Sex Machine hoots with laughter as Seth’s body continues to jerk about on the floor. 

 

All four of them stare down at Seth until he finally stops twitching and remains motionless on the floor. Scott bends down pulls out the two electric prongs that are still attached to Seth’s chest.

 

“Where did you get that thing?” he asks as he straightens up and looks at the two pieces of metal in his hand.

 

“It’s a stun gun. Daddy gave it to me, for protection,” she tells him simply as she tucks it safely back in her pocket before she looks over at Seth with concern, “He’s not dead is he?”

 

“No,” Scott informs her as he rolls Seth over with his foot, “Just unconscious.”

 

“Ok, good. You think you can drive his car back to the compound?” she asks Scott, with the air of someone that finds shooting someone in the chest, a completely normal thing to do.

 

“Sure, Scott replies, slightly in awe of his sister, “Sure, I can do that.”

 

“Remind me never to piss you off, lady,” Tanner drawls at Kate as he heads over to pick up Seth’s half empty bottle of whisky. 

 

The other patrons are still staring at them all like they've just watched a live version of the Jerry Springer Show. Merle clears his throat awkwardly as he shuffles down from the back end of the bar; even he looks petrified of tiny little Kate Fuller.

 

“Sorry about all this, ughh…family drama,” she tells him, smiling as she pulls out a wad of cash from her pocket, “Umm, I hope this will be enough to cover the damage and whatever Seth drank.”

 

She sets the money on the bar top but he doesn't reach out for it and her smile falters a little. Maybe she needs to get used to people always being frightened of her.

 

“That’s mighty kind of you Missy but you keep it,” he says as he pushes the bills back towards her, “I hope you find that brother of his and when you do, tell him Merle’s got a drink waiting for him.”

 

“Thank you,” Kate says, her smile widening as she pockets the money, “I’ll be sure to bring Richie back to meet you.”

 

“I’d like that,” Merle says, “Now go on now, you best get gone.”

 

Kate gives him a nod as Zolo bends down and scoops up Seth’s unconscious body; easily throwing him over his shoulder like he was a rag-doll. Scott gives Merle a friendly wave as he pushes Sex Machine away from stealing another bottle whilst Kate leads the group out of the bar; the rest of the patrons watching her in awe as they make their way outside into the night.

 

“Who is Conan the Barbarian?” Zolo asks Scott as he dumps Seth in the back seat of the truck. 

 

“Don't ask,” Scott sighs as he fishes Seth’s car keys out of his pocket, heads over to his car and calls out to his sister, “See you back at home Kate.”

 

Kate gives him a wave as she gets into the truck with Zolo and Tanner. A few minutes later the convoy heads off into the night; their cargo snoring loudly on the backseat. 

 

The water is almost too hot when it hits her bare skin but Kate turns her face up towards towards the head of the shower and lets its flow over her. It will take her a long time to get used to the sensation of finally being able to feel her own body again and to claim it back for herself. Soap foam has filled up almost the entire floor of the shower tray and Kate had spent what felt like hours scrubbing the dirt away from her skin. It had taken a while for the water to turn clear but Kate kept going until her skin is pink and raw; picking the dirt from underneath her nails. Running the her hands over her naked body feels strange after so much time away from it and Kate takes her time to get to know herself again. The last thing left is her hair; it used to drive her daddy mad when she would use up all the hot water, but old habits die hard and she takes her time just letting the water run through it. Hopefully it will grow back quick enough or she’ll just have to try and even it out with the scissors again. 

 

Once’s she’s finished, she dries her self off, wraps whats left of her hair up and pulls on Richie’s ridiculous smoking jacket. It falls almost to her ankles and the sleeves are far too long but it’s warm and it still smells like him so she ties it securely around her waist. She pads in bare feet back out to the kitchen area where the rest of the guys are. Scott smiles at her when she approaches and she can feels Dr Tanner’s sleazy gaze on her but she promptly ignore him. They’ve laid Seth out on the cleanest couch they could find and he’s remained stubbornly unconscious ever since they had carried him from the bar. 

 

“He’s ok isn't he?” she asks as Scott throws a blanket over Seth’s comatose body.

 

“Yeah, I think so,” Scott tells her as they both stare down at Seth, “I mean, all that liquor and class A drugs probably aren't helping but I’m sure he’ll be fine when he wakes up.”

 

He doesn't sound too convinced and Kate is already preparing herself for the massive stop Seth is going to throw, once wakes up and realises they've kidnapped him. That’s if he wakes up; she probably wouldn't have shot him at point blank range if she’d known that he’d been injecting heroin again. Kate nibbles her lip as she stare’s at Seth again, she had hoped that he would have coma along willingly and she wouldn't have had to use the stupid stun gun but, evidently, that wasn’t to be the case.

 

“Go to bed Kate,” Scott says sternly as he nudges her away, “You look exhausted. I can keep watch over Seth.”

 

“I’m fine,” Kate lies as she stifles a yawn, “I can help Dr Tanner look up stuff or Zolo can tell me more about how we can use Seth’s blood.”

 

Now they've got Seth, they need to be pushing forward not doing dumb things like going to sleep or resting. Richie is still no closer to be brought back to safety and Kate stand the thought of him being all alone a moment longer. 

 

“Sorry Kate,” Scott tells her as he steers her back towards Richie’s room, “You need to get some sleep.”

 

He ignores her protests and all but pushes her inside the bedroom and closes the door firmly behind him. Kate stands there, scandalised, and she kicks the door hard with her foot.

 

“I’m not a child,” she mutters angrily at the closed door, “I’m quite capable of deciding if and when I need sleep!”

 

She’s about to pull the door open when a deep voice behind her makes her almost jump out of her skin.

 

“You are troubled Miss Katherine,” It’s Zolo, standing sentry in the dark by the bedside.

 

“Zolo?” Kate breaths as she tries to not pass out with fright; she’s going to have to get him a bell or something at this rate.

 

“Miss Katherine?”

 

He’s looking at her with those dark eyes of his and Kate tries to sort out in her head what’s wrong whist he waits patiently. She doesn't want to admit it to Scott but the thought of sleeping terrifies her. What if when she sleeps, some residual part of Amrua will sense her weakness and spread out inside her like a disease? That’s what frightens her more than anything; waking up stuck inside herself again. Before she can stop herself, it all comes pouring out of her; her thoughts, her fears and Zolo watches her carefully as she explains it all too him.

 

“What if she’s not really gone?” she whispers in the darkness, “What if she’d still in there?”

 

Zolo moves towards her so swiftly that Kate gives herself credit for not flinching. He’s looking right at her, like he can see the old Kate, the one wasn't designed by monsters or death.

 

“I see inside you Miss Katherine and you are Katherine Fuller, no more no less,” Zolo tells her quietly as he pats her hand with a gentleness she wouldn't have thought possible, “All trace of Amaru that resided within you is gone, Richard saw to that. All that’s left within you is a good heart, strong and true.”

 

She smiles at him as relief washes over her, it’s one thing for Scott to tell her that Amaru is gone but for someone like Zolo who can actually see this stuff is a lot more reassuring. It still doesn't mean she’ll be able to sleep though; when her mind slows down and is allowed to drift away from Richie, Kate can’t help but think back all she witnessed with Amaru. It’s like having a film stuck on repeat inside her head that she can never find the off button to. Her bones are starting to ache though, and Kate finds herself crossing over to Richie’s bed and climbing onto of it; curling herself up near the pillows. Thankfully, someone had cleared up all of Tanners blood  and bits of entrails, there’s even an extra blanket laid on top.

 

“Sleep Miss Katherine,” Zolo say’s quietly as he moves the chair so he can has a perfect view of the door, his sword resting in his lap,”I will keep watch over you.”

 

Kate is about to tell him that she fine and doesn't need to rest, but Richie’s bed is soft and warm. The muskiness of his scent is still there and Kate can almost pretend that he’s laying right next to her. Her head is already feeling sluggish and it drops down easily onto the pillow as her eyes begin to slide shut. Richie’s scent is already starting to fade here but she breaths it in deeply and drifts off into a deep, blissful sleep.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed that; I know it seems like Seth is getting a hard time but trust me, there's a redemption arc coming! Stay tuned for the next chapter where we might, finally, be getting an appearance from our beloved Culebra cinnamon roll; Richie Gecko!
> 
> As always, all comments greatly appreciated! xx


	5. Chapter 5

The great jungle of K’aax lies on the most northern border of Xibalba, spreading it’s vines out like snakes to cover vast expanses of land. Here in the jungle the days are hot and flow seamlessly into one another, life and death, light and dark, new and decay. The leaves are thick, fleshy and large and it it far too easy to become lost if you stray off your path and loose your way. K’aax has been home to the Xixime’s tribe since before even the first Lord drew breath; they have walked this earth for a very long time and will likely be here when the rest of the Lords have faded to dust. They know every trail, every plant and every creature that lurks in the deep, dark jungle, passing down their skills form father to son, from mother to daughter and would continue to do so even when the Great Moon blocks out the Sun. They say that when the Xixime hunt you, it’s like the jungle comes alive and takes you; for the Xixime makes trophies of man and _that_ is the law of the jungle.

One day, when the day grew hot and the air went still, a great tremor had shook the earth and the Xixime had gathered in a circle and watched as day turned to night before their blood red eyes. This is what they had been waiting for, ever since the Great Gate was locked and they had been abandoned by there Queen; the one they called Amaru. Excitement spread through the village like wildfire and the men and women wept as the stories that their ancient ancestors had told, had finally come true. The Great Gate was open once more and they would be free to hunt on Up-Top where the stories say that the flesh of man tastes the better than anything even in the great K’aax. But then the air had turned cold, the sun had reappeared from behind the Great Moon and the Xixime had turned to their elders in confusion; the Great Gate had shut once more. This was not the way it was supposed to happen and the tribe had descended into chaos as a they shook their spears and fired arrows up into the sky. Old Mother’s eyes had rolled white and the old women of the village had whispered strange things, said crazy things, as she called out in the language of Up-Top, frightening the children as she shook and frothed at the mouth; something unknown had entered their jungle. Chief Bloody Fist had called his best hunters, Monkey Claw, Growling Dog and High-Flying-Bird and sent them deep into the jungle to retrieve whatever had fallen into their midsts. They had hunted all day and well into the night, stalking their prey all through the thick undergrowth until they came across something peculiar. 

It had looked so _strange_ standing there in it’s tattered black material and dirt covering it’s face. It had spoken to them in the language Old Mother had told them was from Up-Top and Monkey Claw had looked at his companions and laughed, as it tried to make them understand. Growling Dog had been all set to put an arrow through it’s forehead until it had started speaking in the old Xibalban tongue; the one that only the Lords-That-Sit-Up-High use. Then they had grown fearful of it and given chase as tried to slip away from them, but it was stupid and slow; it didn't know the jungle like they did and they caught it easily. Monkey Claw had put and arrow through it’s leg so it couldn't move, laughing when it cried out in pain and instructed High-Flying-Bird to tie it up so they could bash it’s head in more easily. They almost had the rope around it’s hands when, suddenly, it’s face changed and great fangs lashed out; sinking deep into High-Flying-Bird’s hand and blood splattered onto the jungle floor. Growling Dog had had to hit it with his club until it let go and then he hit it some more until it finally stopped moving.

“Culebra!” Monkey Claw had snarled as he kicked it’s prone body, “Dirty snake!”

Chief Bloody Fist had told them stories of the filthy snakes that had slithered away in the night and abandoned Xibalba, causing the death of their beloved Queen. Culebra’s were low creatures, little more than dogs, and they had no right to sneak away from their masters unseen, whilst the great war raged on. The Xixime tribe had lost many good, strong young men because of this treachery and Chief Bloody Fist had told them at if he ever found a Culebra in his jungle, he would skin it, eat it and grind it’s bone’s into dust. Growling Dog had been insistent that they should kill it, but Monkey Claw was the Chief’s son and he decided that they should take it back to his father; so they had dragged the lost little thing back to camp. 

Chief Bloody Fist had not been at all impressed with their find, as the thing laid whimpering on the ground, and had been set to crack it’s skull open like an egg until Old Mother had intervened. She had heard whispers form the Ones-That-Sleep-Below that there was something about this sad little creature that wasn’t quite right. It might look like a snake but there was a difference to it, deep down inside that not even their great minds could see. Then, almost like a warning to them, a darkness had spread throughout K’aax, and Chief Bloody Fist had begrudgingly agreed not to kill it; if nothing else, it could be kept as a pet for the children. The tribe had crowded around it by this point and they were curious to see what the cowardly snakes of the old stories looked like. The thing had laid there on the ground, moaning in it’s funny language, but Old Mother had slapped it until it grew silent. Some of the children start to giggle and poked at it with their toes as they tried to get it to show them its fangs. Monkey Claw had forced it’s mouth open whilst it had laid there moaning but nothing he did to it would get those long fangs to reappear. After a while it grew boring watching it, so most of the tribe drifted back to their normal day time duties. Only Monkey Claw, High-Flying-Bird, Growling Bird and a gaggle of children remained as it kept insisting that it had a name; they had beat it until it forgot it and then beat it again when it remembered. In the end, the Xixime had built a cage for it out of the discarded femur bones and called it No-Name, until Those-That-Know decided what to do with it. That is where it stayed for a hundred years, for time passes quickly in Xibalba; especially for those who are lost and alone. 

 

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No-Name is having one of his funny dreams again; the one were a man dressed in black is sitting next to him, laughing at something funny on the box with the moving pictures they’re watching. He keeps calling No-Name the wrong name though, something beginning with an “R”, but No-Name keeps forgetting it every time he wakes up. The man seems to like No-Name though, he always smiles at him in the dream or laughs but not in the cruel way that the Xixime do. No-Name likes this dream, even though he can never remember it when he wakes up, and he likes the man even more. 

 

 

_“Wakey, wakey No-Name!”_

 

The man is saying something to No-name, his hand ruffling the back of No-Name’s head as he leans in close, as if he’s saying something important. No-Name’s eyes are already beginning to flicker though and he can feel the man in his dream slipping away as he starts to regain consciousness. 

 

“Seth,” he mumbles, his hand reaching out even though he’s still half asleep, “Don’t go.”

 

He doesn’t know what that word means and he forgets it as soon as he wakes up properly but somewhere, right in the back of his head, he knows that it’s important. No-Name doesn't want the man in his dreams to leave, but he’s already fading away into the blackness and all too quickly No-Name has forgotten all about him.

 

_“No sleeping for No-Name!”_

 

 

It’s barely daybreak when No-Name finally wakes, his eyes swollen and sore from laying on the dirt floor of his cage for so long, and it takes him a minute to realise what woke him. Monkey Claw is standing above him, his sharp teeth bared in a grin, whilst he urinates freely on No-Name’s head. 

 

“No-Name take too long to wake up!” he laughs as urine runs down No-Name’s face and makes his eyes sting, “Bad No-Name!”

 

No-Name just blinks up at him as more piss trickles down his face and almost makes him retch, but he knows better than to move away; it just makes the Xixime’s laugh and throw their shit at him instead. 

 

“No-Name only good for pissing on or fucking!” Monkey Claw snorts, his coal black hair swept back into braids and adorned with feathers, “No-Name No-Use!”

 

No-Name lays there patiently as he waits for Monkey Claw to finish, his finger tips automatically tracing strange patterns in the soil with his fingertips, _S…E…T…H_. He always does this after one of his funny dreams but he can never understand what the letters mean, and his head starts to pound if he thinks to hard about it. Whatever _S-E-T-H_ stands for it’s something that No-Name doesn't think he’ll ever know the answer to. There are other patterns he traces with his fingers; a weird looking one with three lines that makes him think of dark green, not green like the jungle, a beautiful deep green that could only belong to something special; not anything that could belong to No-Name. 

 

The rest of the village is waking up now and Old Mother and Little Moss have started roasting the leftover leg of meat from last night. Growling Dog and Monkey Claw had been hunting men from the Xnuk Ek’ clan who were stupid and slow but their flesh was tasty and good for roasting. No-Name had watched through the bars of his cage when they had emerged from the jungle, dragging a red skinned man along between them. The Xnuk Ek’ were more of a peaceful tribe and they were not so good at fighting as the Xixime, or maybe it was just that the Xixime were far more vicious, for they liked there food alive whilst they ate it. However, the Xnuk Ek’ that they had caught was particularly fat and would make a mighty feast for the camp. Some of the younger warriors had carefully driven wooden spikes through his arms and legs, they were very good at this so they wouldn't spoil the meat; they used to practice on No-Name until they got it just right. The Xnuk Ek’ man had screamed in agony as they stripped the skin from his flesh and then gutted him like a pig. His head was in the boiling pot, ready for the flesh to be picked from it, so his skull could be added to the just of the skulls that served as a warning to anyone foolish enough to enter their camp.  

 

None of the other tribes ever ventured anywhere near the Xixime’s hunting territory for fear of being hunted down by the silent and deadly hunters. The Xixime people had dark green skin, which was perfect for camouflaging themselves agains the jungle foliage. No-Name doesn’t look like the rest of the tribe; a very long time ago he had seen his reflection in a bowl of water and his skin was white like the bones his cage was made out of. His eyes didn’t match their’s either; they were a deep dark blue whilst everyone here had blood red eyes. The Xixime are also fit and strong whilst No-Name is sunken and shrivelled, as they never let him eat anything other then a few scraps they toss through the bars of his cage.

 

Something must be happening today, there’s a buzz about the camp and Monkey Claw, High-Flying-Bird and the other warriors are painting their bodies with dark yellow symbols; No-Name knew better than ask why. One of them, Hits-With-A-Fist, wore a band of yellow lines down his arm that looked like flames leaping from the fire and every time he saw it, No-Name would get a headache and a blurry image would flicker across his eyes; a fire and the sound of young children screaming. There had been one night when the warriors had returned from battle and Hits-With-A-Fist had been dancing a war cry around the fire and something long since buried had stirred in No-Name’s head, almost like he wasn’t supposed to be here at all. He can’t remember much after that; the night had been filled with awful screaming and it took him a while to realise it was coming from him.

 

A rock abruptly smacks into the side of his head and No-Name finds Hits-With-A-Fist staring angrily at him, another rock already clenched in his fist. Most of the Xixime’s don’t mind having No-Name around, he makes a good pet for the children, but some of them like Hits-With-A-Fist think he’s a bad omen for the tribe. No-Name tries very hard to be good and stay out of the way but a fist or the sharp end of a stick always seems to find him somehow or other.

 

Above him, Monkey Claw has finally finished relieving himself and he shakes his genitals in No-Name’s face before he runs off to join the other hunters; his deep laugh echoing all around the village. No-Name waits until he’s out of sight before he craws over to the other side of his cage and huddles down in the corner. The tribe seems like it will be going out into the jungle today, so hopefully he’ll be left alone and his head won’t feel so jumbled and worn out. Sometimes, but only when his head is clear enough, No-Name thinks about escaping and running off to live in the jungle on his own. He’s almost certain he tried that once before because he’s got a vague memory of the smell of the trees and the soft jungle floor until it all goes black and all that’s left is the memory of being beaten for days on end. No-Name isn’t as strong as he was back then and his cage is made out of an assortment of bones and heavy branches, fastened together with lengths of sturdy jungle vines; he’d never manage to break his way through now. Thunder rumbles high over head and No-Name hope’s that it doesn't rain as there’s nothing covering the top of his cage. When it rained, he would sit shivering miserably in the corner as the heavy jungle rain soaked all the way through his skin and deep down into his bones. Perhaps some rain would be good for him this time, as the Monkey Claw’s urine has run down his face and is making his already chapped and bleeding lips sting. He’s never given any water to drink or wash himself with and the smell of his own filth and body oder is reeking, as the sun starts to rise and the heat beats down on him. When he starts to smell bad enough that the tribe members start to complain, he’ll be dragged out from the cage, stripped naked and tied to a tree whilst they throw water over him. Old Mother, or one of the young girls, will then scrub his skin raw with tree bark until it bleeds or they’ll take a knife to his hair and shear it off when it gets too long. Only warriors have long hair and No-Name is little more than a dog; that’s what they tell him whilst the sharp blades cut into his scalp. Once they decided that he was clean enough, they would leave him tied to the tree and out in the baking sun to dry off. The first time they did this he had flown into a panic, and begged them not to leave him out where the suns rays could strike him. The heat beating down on his head had been unbearable and sent him into a fit of madness, he even tried to gnaw his way through the ropes that bound his wrists; although now No-Name couldn't even remember why he was so afraid. He does remember that Old Mother had hit him with a switch until the back of his legs bleed as she scolded him for being weak.

 

“No-Name don’t no where he come from!” she had jeered at him, her blood red eyes full of mirth as she struck his bare skin, “No-Name need not fear the sun, only fear One-Above-All.”

 

No-Name had cried and whimpered as he lay out in the scorching heat for four whole days, his skin red and blistered as the rest of the tribe had laughed and pointed at him, like they always did when he was being pathetic. They had intended to leave him there for an entire week but some of the young tribe boys had crept up on him in the night, and held his legs apart so they could tip fire ants all over his genitals. The noise No-Name had made, as he howled in agony whilst he was bitten to shreds, had been too annoying for Old Mother to put up with. So, they had hit him in the head until he was quiet again and dragged him back to his cage whilst the boys giggled and pointed at him. No-Name was their favourite pet and they liked to play with him; sometimes they would hold burning sticks to the sole’s of his feet whilst he tried to sleep or stand in a circle and pelt him with rocks. 

 

The rest of the camp is awake now and No-Name can’t help but notice that even the women and little children are painting yellow patterns on themselves, but they don’t look like any markings he’s seen on them before. Maybe they're doing something special today? Whatever it is, it’s probably best that he doesn't draw attention to himself, so No-Name retreats further into his corner and tries to remain unnoticed. It works relatively well, until Little Cub pokes at him with a stick, as she wanders past to get her breakfast, but after that he is left relatively alone. 

 

Whilst his captors are immersed in their food, No-Name carefully eases his left leg out in front of him, and unwraps the blood stained piece of cloth that’s tied tight around his calf. He’s not allowed to wear what the tribesman wear, a loin cloth, and has been left in the clothes they say they found him in; a tattered, filthy shirt and some torn trousers. No-Name used to have something that he wore on his face, he can’t remember exactly what, but they disappeared when Black Flint and Red-Sky-In-Morning and made a game of seeing which one of them could hit him hardest in the face. There’s a perfectly square patch of skin missing from the side of his leg and No-Name hisses with pain as he gingerly tries to clean it with his own spit. The moon had been hanging high in the sky when Swooping Bat, Hanging-Vine and Monkey Claw had drunkly stumbled up to his cage; they had been drinking fermented goats milk all night and their spirits were high. No-Name was always wary when one of the Xixime came to visit him in the night and a filthy gag was often placed in his mouth to prevent him form crying out. At first the three warriors had just taken turns in slapping him across the face and they were so drunk that it didn't hurt as much as it normally did. He had thought that that would be the end of it, especially when Swooping Bat had tripped over his own feet and spilled the goats milk all over No-Name’s head. 

 

“Grab his legs,” Monkey Claw had slurred as he drew out the dagger he always carried tucked into his loin cloth, “No-Name no fun today!” 

 

Swooping Bat and Hanging-Vine had pinned his arms and legs to the floor whilst Monkey Claw, the best with a blade out of the three, had delicately shaved off a layer of skin from the back of his leg. Even in his inebriated state, he still manage to remove a perfectly symmetrical square and he waved it mockingly in front of No-Name’s face. The pain from his skin being peeled away had almost been unbearable and he had cried out in pain as they had whooped and jeered at him, dragging him for the cage and pushing him down next to the fire. 

 

“We see what No-Name taste like!” Hanging-Vine cackled as Swooping Bat twisted No-Name’s arm painfully behind his back so he couldn't run off.

 

“Bet No-Name taste like shit!” Monkey Claw had sneered as he pierced the piece of flesh with a stick and held it over the hot embers of the fire and cooked it.

 

The smell of charred skin had made No-Name wretch and gag even though his stomach was completely empty, much to the delight of Monkey Claw.

 

“Let’s see what No-Name taste like!” he grinned as Hanging-Vine abruptly forced No-Name’s mouth open and the sizzling flesh was stuffed inside. 

 

He had desperately tried to spit it out but Swooping Bat clamped his hand over No-Names mouth whilst Monkey Claw held his nose so he couldn't breath. In the end he had no choice but to swallow, and he gagged repeatedly as the cooked meat from his leg slid down his throat and into his stomach. 

 

“Now No-Name good for eating, as well as pissing on and fucking!” Monkey Claw had crowed as the other two had rolled about laughing, “No-Name not be hungry any more!”

 

No-Name had sat there miserably as Monkey Claw had made faces at him and thrown bits of burning wood at him, thinking sadly of all the other patches of skin he was missing. Eventually they had grown bored of him, it was irritating when he cried all the time, and dragged him back to his cage. As usual, Monkey Claw had stayed behind whilst the other two had stumbled off to their huts. 

 

“No-Name mine now,” he had hissed as he dug his fingers into the bleeding wound on No-Name’s leg, “No-Name belong to the Xixime, No-Name not going nowhere!”

 

No-Name had nodded mutely; there was no getting around it, he was here to stay. 

 

Thankfully the wound has stopped bleeding now, but it’s starting to smell like rotten meat and the skin around it is hot to the touch. This is hardly surprising, considering No-Name is constantly filthy and the Xixime never tend to his wounds like the do their own. The tribes healer, Middle Eye, is famed for being able to heal any wound and No-Name has watched her through the bars of his cage, as she sealed gaping wounds and bound broken bones. Mostly No-Name is left to his own devices because No-Name’s body is strange and will constantly re-heal itself, no matter how many bones the Xixime break or much skin is peeled away from him. Maybe that’s why they hurt him so much and No-Name secretly wishes that one of the constant blows to his head will be his last; then he can finally be rid of this hellish existence. No-Name winches as he tries to wipe away the yellow pus that has started to ooze around the edges, before he gives up and ties the ragged cloth back around hid leg. 

 

 

Old Mother is calling out for the rest of the tribe and they’re now gathering eagerly around her; waiting for Chief Bloody fist to come and say the scared words with them before they leave and do whatever it is that they're doing today. Chief Bloody Fist is the only member of the Xixime tribe that has relatively little to do with No-Name and he seems to regard the camp pet with disinterest. Old Mother had told him that he was lucky that the Chief didn't peel his skin from his skull and wear it as a hat, such was the way that they usually did to their enemies. No-Name didn't see how he could be an enemy of the Xixime tribe, for he was stupid and slow and could barely stand up straight on his own; the muscle had long since wasted from his legs due to ill use. Still, the Chief had decreed that No-Name should never leave the camp, not even to fetch water or carry wood for the fire. The cage was his place and that was where he shall remain until the One-Above-All decided otherwise. Something different is happening today; he can feel it in the air and he shrinks back against the cage as some of the elders start to point over at him. Usually when people start pointing at him its because he’s done something bad, but it’s barely day break and No-Name wracks his muddled brain to think of something he could have done to displease them. Maybe he had screamed too loud last night when his skin was shorn away or cried to loudly after Monkey Claw had finished with him?

 

He’s too engrossed in watching what the tribe is doing to notice the gaggle of little children that have snuck up behind him; their footfalls as light as feathers as they inch closer to the cage. No-Name is straining his ears to try and listen to what Old Mother is saying, she keeps pointing in his direction, when something hard and heavy smacks him in the back of the head. There’s blood on the back of his hand when he touches the side of his head and he turns around to find Little Cub and her band of followers, naked as the day they were born, giggling as they gather up more rocks to throw at him. No-Name moves away from them and into the opposite corner but their stones still manage to find their way through to him. Croaking-Frog, one of the littler children, hits him directly above the eye much to the delight of his companions and No-Name hastily wipes the blood away as the children surround his cage. 

 

“Dirty snake! Slimy snake!” Little Cub jeers as she dances around the cage, cheered on by her friends, “Dirty, filthy, stinking snake!”

 

The little children especially, always refer to him as a snake but No-Name doesn't understand why; nobody would tell even if he was allowed to ask. Old Mother and the older tribe members sometimes call him “Culebra” but that word is lost to him as well. No-Name is just “No-Name”; nothing more, nothing less. 

 

The little band of children, lead by Little Cub, are running back and forth around the cage as they rattle sticks along the bone enclosure; hissing at him and making grotesque faces. The noise is jarring and No-name wishes desperately for some peace and quiet so he could finally lay his head down and rest. The children won’t be going anywhere soon though, as the rest of the tribe are still engrossed in discussing whatever plans they have for today; they’re all covered in the strange yellow markings now. One of them, He-Who-Greets-With-Fire, has a great thick band of yellow right across his eyes and No-Name’s feels another stab of recognition as his heart suddenly beats fast in his chest. He doesn't have time to dwell on this though, as a Little Cub is nudging the youngest boy forward, pushing and shoving him until he’s right in front of No-Name’s cage. 

 

“Do it Falling-Feather,” a girl, Blue Petal, urges as all the other children crowd around him, their excitement evident on their faces, “Make him show us the snake!”

 

Falling-Feather doesn’t look too enthusiastic about being in such close proximity to No-Name but he creeps closer anyway; he wouldn't want to known as a coward, cowards end up getting their fingers chopped off by Old Mother to teach them a lesson. 

 

“No-Name, come!” Falling-Feather demands as he clangs the cage with his stick and No-Name obediently edges closer to him. 

 

The other children twitter excitedly, jumping up and down as Falling-Feather takes a small blade from his loin cloth and drags it slowly across his arm; beads of blood splashing onto the ground. No-Name can feel his nostrils flaring as Falling-Feather slowly sticks his arm through the bars of the cage, a look of trepidation on his face. There’s something inside him, akin to a ravenous animal, that is practically bursting to get out of him as the sweet scent of the child’s blood drifts towards him. It’s always the smell that gets him, that delicious, tangy smell of fresh blood that makes his insides burn and his mind lose focus. No-Name can already feel the bones in his face start to shift as the children start to clap and scream with anticipation. It hurts more and more every time he does this; he’s got a vague memory of being able to do this all the time when he first came to the Xixime but now it only exhausts him. The sound of his bones shifting fills his ears and it feels like his skin is tearing apart as too long, pointed fangs burst through his gums. The pain is almost unbearable but it pales in comparison to his unwavering thirst for blood, a thirst that never really leaves him and sends him into madness with his desperation for it. In his head he know’s its been far too long since he last fed but he can’t understand how or why he knows this. It’s just a part of him; like the two fangs that are currently dripping with saliva that No-Name has no idea why they’re there or even how he got them.

 

The children are shrieking with laughter now, this is their absolutely favourite game, and they point and make funny faces at No-Name. Falling-Feather, emboldened by the other children’s mirth, makes another cut and inches closer towards him. More of the delicious aroma wafts towards him and the hunger that sits inside him rears it’s head and No-Name throws himself forward; his hand closing around Falling-Feathers small wrist. The hunger never leaves him and it digs away at No-Name’s brain every single day that he is denied something to eat. He’s not evan asking for a lot, just a little to take the edge off. Stones are smacking into his face but for once he ignores them as he lets out a loud hissing sound, his fangs sinking deeply into the little boys arm. 

 

“No-Name going to eat you Falling-Feather!” Little Cub chortles as she hurls another rock at No-Name, “No-Name going to turn _you_ into a snake!”

 

Falling-Feather tries to pull his arm back, his black blood dripping all over the floor, but for once No-Name is too strong for him and he eagerly laps up the blood. 

 

“Falling-Feather going to have to live in the cage with No-Name!” Little Cub shrieks as the boy’s eyes go wide with fear, “Falling-Feather stuck with stinking No-Name!”

 

Falling-Feather needn’t be too worried though, for No-Name has barely taken a mouthful before he lets go and vomits the blood all over himself. No matter how many times he does this, either out of desperation or he’s goaded into it like today; it never tastes right. The blood of the Xixime is black and thick like tar and it burns No-Name’s throat and makes him sick whenever he makes the mistake to swallow it. The children know this of course, Old Mother had told them that No-Name’s bite was useless, but they still like to see his pathetic attempt at feeding himself. No-Name’s face is already shifting painfully back into place, just as Falling-Feather stumbles backwards onto the floor. Little Cub and her band of miscreants howl with laughter at him and his face flushes with embarrassment as he looks angrily up at No-Name.

 

“Bad No-Name!” he scolds, picking up a fallen stick and jabbing No-Name through the bars with it, “Very bad No-Name!”

 

No-Name cowers in the corner as the other children pick up sticks of their own and start hitting every bit of him they can reach; his already injured leg taking most of the brunt of it. Little Cub must be feeling exceptionally vicious today because her stick seems to smack down on him the most, and she pokes at him until she can jab her stick all the way into his bleeding leg.

 

“Stupid No-Name!” she spits as she hits him again, causing him to cry out with pain, “No-Name not go biting no more!”

 

No-Name covers his head with his hands as he tries to block out the jubilant cries of the little beasts, as they dance around trying to find the best place to hit him. As hard as he tries not to, tears start pouring down his face much to the delight of the Xixime children and they laugh at him as they drop their sticks and pick up rocks to throw at him instead. No-Name curls himself up into a ball as the hard stones smack into his body; wishing that there was someone out there who would come and rescue him, but nobody ever does. He must be making a lot of noise with his screams because Young Mother comes striding over and shouts at him to be quiet. 

 

“No-Name make too much noise!” she snaps at him as she picks up her own rock and throws it at him; her aim is much harder than the children's and No-Name lets out a howl as it smacks into his forehead. All the children roar with laughter as Young Mother lets out a heavy sigh as No-Name whimpers on the floor; she didn't think he made a very good pet at all. Little Cub sneaks out from behind her and throws one last rock at No-Name, stifling her giggles as it bounces off his ear and makes it bleed. Grumbling to herself about his uselessness, Young Mother gathers up the children and shoos them away; Falling-Feather being scolded as he holds his injured arm.   

 

Once they’ve gone, No-Name untangles himself and crawls back over to the corner, his body full of cuts and bruises. His head is throbbing, both from Young Mothers rock and from the lack of food, so he hugs his knees to his chest and rocks back and forth to try and sooth himself. The only thing that works to distract himself from the notion that his body feels like it’s eating itself from the inside out, is more pain. Digging his fingers into his already bleeding leg, No-Name tries to focus on the burning pain that’s shooting down his leg and when that doesn't work, he starts to pick away at the freshly healing skin. He’s _starving_ and it’s not flesh he’s after; the little scraps of meat they throw him barely take the edge off. The fact that the Xixime’s blood is useless to him is almost unbearable, and No-Name will find his brain is stirred up into such a frenzy that he’ll spend days throwing himself into the bars of his cage, tearing at his own skin and hair. That’s the only time that the Xixime think he’s actually a danger to them and Young Mother will keep the children away as she sends one of the young men, usually Monkey Claw, to hit hm over the head until he’s silent. After that he’ll spend days or sometimes weeks curled up in a ball, neither moving or speaking, no matter how many rocks they throw at him. Monkey Claw had taken great delight in No-Names suffering and would set a bowl full of bats blood outside his cage, even though he knew No-Name couldn't eat it; he just liked to watch how the smell drove the camp pet crazy. The worst bit was that all the Xixime seemed to know _why_ he was like this, why he had two faces and an incessant craving for something they knew he was never going to get.

 

“No-Name will learn one day,” Old Mother had said once, as she passed by his cage as he was wailing with hunger on the floor, “One day No-Name will know.”

 

No-Name _didn't_ know though; he was stupid and slow and not fit for anything besides being played with. He has, however, managed to wok out that blood was clearly something he needed and his shrivelled body was proof of that; his ribs jutted out painfully and his arms were little more than twigs. On most days it was difficult for him to even form coherent thoughts and his mind would play tricks on him, blurry images of a man dressed in black running towards him and screaming out some long forgotten word. It’s always after these dreams that he starts making his funny patterns in the dirt and it took him a while to realise that the same strange patterns were carved into the bones that made his cage. It can’t have been No-Name that did it though, even if he has been here so long he doesn’t remember, because No-Name had lost most his finger nails a long time ago and the ones that were left were cracked, swollen and bleeding. Maybe it’s due to his earlier encounter with the children but No-Name finds he needs to see those weird patterns again, if he can remember where they are, and he wanders around his cage in circles until he spots them hiding in the farthest corner. 

 

His fingers trace slowly around the funny patterns that have been carved over and over into the bone bars; _S-E-T-H-K-A-T-E-R-I-C-H-I-E._ No-Name sits there silently with his brow furrowed as he tries, once again, to work out if it means something to him. There’s times when he’s sure he knows exactly who he is, but then it get’s washed away like a rainstorm and he’s back to being No-Name. He’s not sure if he’s even had another name but he’s almost certain that he did; its like a dull scratching at the back of his head that’s fighting to get loose. When it’s very dark and No-Name has finally managed to get some sleep, he can hear a soft voice that sounds like bells chiming, screaming for him in the darkness. The voice is gone the instant he startles awake, or is woken by a sharp kick or a fist, but whoever the voice belongs to they’re important to him, just like the man dressed all in black. No-Name believes that if he could just have five minutes to himself, just five moments of peace, he would be able to untangle all his half dreamt thoughts and forgotten memories. However there’s a horrible part of his brain that tells him that perhaps it doesn't mean anything, and that he’s been in this cage for so long that he must have been born in it and would likely die in it. Even when they drag him out to play with him it always hurts and in the end, No-Name would much rather be in his cage. 

 

No-Name traces his fingers around the last part of odd pattern, _R-I-C-H-I-E,_ and feels the same stab of familiarity he always does whenever he remembers that it’s there. He remembered…. something… something bad happened to him but something bad is always happening to him. It has hard to even believe that he ever had a life outside this cage, let alone before it. Sometimes, when the Xixime left him alone because he was too battered and broken to be of any fun to them, his mind drifted all the way back to a the smell of a dusty dirt floor and the sound of screaming. The funny dreams had been happening more and more lately and his hand would often start to ache, even if his fingers hadn't been broken that week, and a strange, sweet scent would fill the air around him. 

 

No-Name is still pondering on this when the door to his cage is pulled open and Smashing Rock, a giant of a man with a long thick braid of black hair, towers over him in the doorway. He’s covered in the same yellow markings as Monkey Claw, High-Flying-Bird and the rest of the hunters but No-Name still hasn't been able to work out what these new markings mean.  

 

“We go walkabout, No-Name,” Smashing Rock tells him as he reaches down and grabs No-Name roughly by the arm, dragging him to his feet and pushing him outside of the cage. 

 

The whole tribe is there staring at him on mass, Chief Bloody Fist in the centre, as Monkey Claw bounds forward and roughly binds his hands together. A great sense of unease fills him as he’s pushed forwards towards the edge of the camp, where the dense jungle lies, and the Xixime follow silently behind him. No-Name stumbles and almost falls as his feet hit the unfamiliar jungle floor, much to the delight of Little Cub and her friends as they skim along ahead of him; their footfalls as light as air. The sweet and cloying smell of the great K’aax assaults all his sense at once and after being inside the cage for so long, it’s hard for No-Name to get his body to do what its supposed too. The jungle seems far too loud and far too silent all at once and his head spins as he tries to take in all this new information at once; the bright green of the leaves, the darkness of the great vines and the buzzing of the insects all around him. Apparently he’s taking too long to get to wherever they're going, because Monkey Claw hits him in-between the shoulder blades with the bottom of his spear, and No-Name goes tumbling to the floor. His legs aren’t used to getting this much exercise, there’s barely enough room to stand in his cage, and it’s taking him a while to remember what to do with them.  

 

“Today good day for you No-Name,” Monkey Claw tells him, as he pulls him back up onto his feet, “No-Name going to have fun!”

 

No-Name isn’t permitted to speak, so he keeps his eyes averted to the floor as he tries to figure out what on earth Monkey Claw is talking about; no day is ever good for him. Monkey Claw pushes him forward again and No-Name tries to keep up with the rest of the tribe as they trek silently and stealthy though the jungle; their dark green skin blending seamlessly into the foliage. It doesn't go unnoticed by him that the rest of the hunters are watching him carefully, whispering to each other as they skip ahead through the trees. Monkey Claw catches him watching and grins at him, his pointed teeth gleaming in the sunlight, until No-Name quickly looks away. It’s being bad like this that often leads to him being punished or played with until his screams echo around the whole village. Monkey Claw is the one that likes to be cruel to No-Name the most; he likes to sneak into No-Name’s cage at night and poke at him with sharp objects or frighten him with horrible stories until he cries. 

 

It seems like they've been walking for hours and No-Name can barely stay on his feet, it’s so much hotter inside the jungle canopy then he ever thought possible. His feet are cut to shreds and bleeding, but the Xixime force him onwards until No-Name thinks that he might just collapse right there on the spot. Then, just as he thinks he can’t go on any further, the trees part and they're standing in the middle of a huge clearing with a large stone temple on the other side. The Xixime crowd around him expectantly but No-Name is flummoxed; he doesn't think he’s even been here before. Monkey Claw laughs spitefully at him as he shoves No-Name out in to the open and No-Name has to blink several times before his eyes adjust to the light. Then the chanting starts and the drums ring out loud and the whole tribe dances around him as they push him onwards to the centre of the clearing.

 

_“Conex, conex palanxen, xicubin, xicubin yocolquin,”_

_“Conex, conex palanxen, xicubin, xicubin yocolquin,”_

_“Xola mayola, xola mayol, ea, ea, ea, o,”_

_“Conex, conex palanxen, xicubin, xicubin yocolquin,”_

 

Old Mother is spinning and twirling, her eyes rolled white, as she leads the chant and the Xixime get louder and louder and No-Name suddenly starts to feel afraid; this isn't their usual war chant. Monkey Claw shoves him again as he dances around him, his spear held low and his blood red eyes almost glowing in the sunlight. 

 

_“Conex, conex palanxen, xicubin, xicubin yocolquin,”_

_“Conex, conex palanxen, xicubin, xicubin yocolquin,”_

_“Xola mayola, xola mayol, ea, ea, ea, o,”_

_“Conex, conex palanxen, xicubin, xicubin yocolquin,”_

 

No-Name is even more frighten now as the tribe sways and swirls around him, like they're all running off the same thread of energy whilst he’s just left standing there. The jungle isn't that far away though, maybe he could run for it? His legs are almost moving in that direction when a huge hand clamps down on his shoulder, and No-Name looks up to see Chief Bloody Fist standing above him. The rest of the Xixime fall into a hushed silence and No-Name is shoved forward so he’s standing in front of the Chief. 

 

“You are the one we call No-Name?” Bloody Fist asks and No-Name nods and tries not to tremble as the Chief pulls a glinting back dagger from his loin cloth, “The dirty, low-born Culebra?”

 

No-Name nods again even though he has no idea if that’s true or not; he never did manage to learn what he was, despite Old Mother insisting that he would. Bloody Fist smiles at him as he yanks No-Name’s hands forward and the tribe chitters excitedly amongst themselves. For one brief, shining moment, No-Name thinks that this is it; they're going to kill him and finally put him out of his misery. Something flickers in his head again and he gets the strangest feeling that he’s been here before, but that can’t be true because No-Name hasn’t ever been outside the camp. Bloody Fist is still smirking at him, his blood red eyes boring into him, and No-Name suddenly realises that he’s seen those eyes somewhere before; he just can’t remember where. 

 

“Ain’t nuthin for you here No-Name,” Bloody Fist is telling him, his voice deep and rich, as he slices through the rope binding No-Name’s hands together, “Time to go.”

 

No-Name stands there stupidly and stares at them all, his head a massive swirl of confusion as he tries to take in what the Chief just told him. They're letting him go? After all this time? Some of the little children look disappointed at loosing their favourite toy, and Little Cub even stamps her feet and starts to cry as Young Mother shushes her. No-Name remains staring at them all until Bloody Fist starts to get annoyed and shoves him away from him and the tribe, back towards the jungle. The other members start doing the same thing and No-Name eventually trips and falls heavily onto the jungle floor. 

 

“Go,” Bloody Fist says as he kicks No-Name further away, “Go find your way home No-Name.”

 

In the end No-Name doesn't have any choice but to turn away and leave, as the tribe watches him go before they silently slide back like chameleons into the greenery. And just like that, No-Name is totally and utterly alone, with no idea of where or even what home is or any idea of how to find it. The sweet jungle fragrance was making his head hurt and moving between the dense vegetation was nothing like walking the short walk from the cage to whichever tree he would be tied too. The moisture was so thick, that sweating had become obsolete, it just ran warmly into his already filthy clothes and only served to make him even more thirsty. There were more noises than No-Name’s ears could separate and from every direction came the hums and chirps of insects, the song of birds and the distant sound of something roaring. Everything looks the same and No-Name whimpers slightly as he stumbles through the jungle undergrowth and tries to decided what to do. Even though the Xixime were mean and cruel to him, they were all he had ever known and he felt strangely frightened about leaving them. Maybe he could sneak back to the village? Even as he turns around, he realises he’s already lost any sense of direction; it feels like K’aax had sealed itself up behind him. So, in the end, he decides to just keep walking and drags his battered and broken body along for what feels like hours. It doesn't take long before exhaustion takes him and he all but collapses onto the jungle floor; maybe he could die right here instead? It wouldn't be do bad, he thinks, as he lays his head down on the ground. The green of the leaves is pretty and it reminds him of something else he’s sure he’s forgotten, a word or perhaps a name? No-Name’s eyes are almost sliding shut when he hears it, a sound deep in the jungle, a sound he’s heard many, many times before. Pushing himself to his feet, he stares around in the direction the noise came from when he hears it again, just to his right. It’s the sound of the Xixime’s hunting horn and it only takes No-Name a few brief seconds to realise that they are hunting _him._  

 

His legs are moving before he even has to tell them too, and he smashes his way through the undergrowth; running as fast as he can through the jungle. No-Name’s feet slip outwards on soft jungle leaves as he round the corner, the humid air sticking to his throat and lungs as he tries to inhale deeper, faster as he runs. With each footfall a jarring pain shoots ankle to knee, ankle to knee as his skinned leg starts to bleed freely through his makeshift bandage.The sound of swift footsteps and the rustle of branches floats towards him and No-Name forces himself onward as the desperate need to survive kicks in; he doesn't want to end up skinned and mounted up on a stick for the Xixime to laugh at forever. 

 

Monkey Claw is catching up to him, No-Name can tell it's him by the feathers whipping around his braid and the way his feet make no sound at all; the rest of the hunters are moving swiftly behind him. No-Name’s legs feel like lead as he tries to push himself onwards but he can’t outrun them forever; he’s too weak and the tribe has sent their best hunters after him. Hiding is what he’s good at, hiding away inside the corner of his cage and folding himself up so small that nobody pays him any attention. Where can he hide in the jungle where the Xixime, who know every inch of it by heart, won’t find him?

 

No-Name’s foot slides out from underneath him on the soggy leaves and he goes rolling and tumbling down a steep bank; his arms and face slashed at by the great thorn bush he landed in. Crying out in pain before he can stop himself, No-Name tries to crawl his way out from underneath the huge bush; his breath coming out in large gulps. Thorns have pierced his cheek and No-Name twists himself around so he can free his arm to try and pull them out. That’s when he spots the small cave entrance that’s just ahead of him. Abandoning the thorns, he throws himself towards the tiny, dark opening and pulls himself inside without even checking to see if there’s anything lurking in the there. It’s not a moment too soon, as he hears the Xixime fly past overhead and moving swiftly onwards in their pursuit of him. He sits there, frozen, for what seems like forever before he dares to creep further into the cave; it’s tiny and he can barely fit himself inside, but it will do if it keeps him safe for the time being. The jungle is already starting to plunge itself into darkness and No-Name starts to feel afraid again, he’s always had the light of the campfire or the brightness of the moon to keep away the shadows. The huge vine trees of K’aax are dense and no light, not even from the Great Moon, filters down through the tree tops and No-Name huddles in on himself as the light slowly disappears. It takes him a while to realise that he’s been making the same repetitive movements with his finger on the rocky floor of the cave as he did back in his cage. It’s a small comfort, even though he still doesn't know why he does this, as his fingers tracing patterns in the dirt out of habit; K _…A…T…E._

 

Being away from the tribe is making No-Name’s mind feel a lot less jumbled and even though he’s still terrified, at least he’s finally free from his cage. Now he just needs to figure out what to do with his new found freedom; Bloody Chief had told him to find his way home but No-Name doesn't even know where home is. He’d been with the Xixime for as long as he could remember and surely if he had gotten lost, someone would be looking for him? Wouldn't he be missed? Perhaps not, perhaps nobody is even looking for No-Name. A loud growling fills the night ahead of him but No-Name can’t fight the exhaustion thats been consuming him ever since he left the cage, and even though he should probably stay awake, just in case the Xixime find him or another creature of the jungle, his eyes start to slide shut. 

 

 

No-Name is dreaming one of his strange dreams again; he’s at a big wooden table but he’s small, smaller than Little Cub or Falling-Feather, and he’s sitting in the lap of another child. Somehow No-Name knows instantly that this is the man from his dream, even though he’s much smaller here. There’s another man as well but it’s not one of the Xixime’s, this man has kind eyes and a bright, warm smile. He’s trying to teach No-Name something but No-Name is only little and it takes him a while to understand, but the kind man says that ok because he’s just learning, he’s allowed to make mistakes. There’s a big box of colourful sticks next to him and some thin white leaves that No-Name is itching to touch and to his surprise, the kind man slides them over to him. No-Name picks up the jist of it pretty quickly once he finds out that the coloured sticks can make coloured lines and he produces two wobbly looking stick people and an animal with four legs; he stays away from the dark green shades and the reds. 

 

“How about we do some spelling?” the smiling man asks and No-Name nods eagerly even though he doesn't know what that means. 

 

At first he starts to worry that he’ll be punished if he gets it wrong, but somehow he knows that the kind man would never hurt him, that he loves No-Name like he was his own child. The child version of the man in black is holding on to him tightly, like he’s worried that No-Name might accidentally slip of his lap and down onto the floor. It feels very strange having all this care and attention, after having spent so much time being beaten and picked on. 

 

“Who’s this?” the man is asking, as he points to the other little boy and No-Name’s heart begins to thump hard in his chest because he’s certain he knows the answer to this one.

 

“Seth!” No-Name chirps excitedly as the other boy smiles back at him, his arms wrapped tightly around No-Name’s waist. 

 

“Good boy!” the man says happily as he beams at No-Name, “Now, can you spell that for me?”

 

He hands No-Name a brightly coloured stick and another strange white leaf and No-Name finds that his small hand flies easily across and spells out a name;      _S-E-T-H._

 

“And Seth is…?” the man asks and No-Name starts to get excited because he finally feels like he knows this one as well.

 

“My big brother!” he yells happily and the man slides the white leaf towards him again and No-Name spells out _B-R-O-T-H-E-R._

 

It’s like the pieces of a very hard puzzle are finally slotting into place and No-Name looks up at the other little boy with his child’s eyes and he remembers, remembers that Seth is his brother, his constant companion and the only person that’s ever managed to make him feel safe. Seth wouldn't leave him down here all alone.

 

“Good job little buddy!” the man says, as he claps his hands before he asks another question, “And who am I?”

 

“Uncle Eddie!” No-Name cries and he doesn't even need to be asked to write it down as he adds _U-N-C-L-E -D-D-I-E_ to his sheet of paper.

 

Uncle Eddie smiles kindly down at him and No-Name feels the excitement fill his whole body; he’s finally found his family, even if it is just in a dream.

 

“Ok, last one, the most important one,” Uncle Eddie tells him seriously and No-Name makes sure he pays close attention, “Who are _you_?”

 

No-Name stares down at the piece of paper as his head start to fill in the gaps from Seth to Uncle Eddie and almost everything in between.

 

“I’m Richie!” he says triumphantly because No-Name is not No-Name any longer, he’s Richie and his little hands spell it out on the stark white paper;                  _R-I-C-H-I-E._

 

 

The early dawn chorus of birds is what first wakes Richie from his fitful sleep; that and the hundreds of fire ants that are currently bitting every bit of exposed skin. His clothes are covered in a moving mass of green and he frantically tries to brush them away; crying out in pain as they bite at his fingers. In the end he crawls out to the mouth of the cave to get away from them. His head feel so much clearer now, even though some bits of his memory are patchy at best. Richie remembers Seth though and he holds onto the little bit of hope that he might one day get to see him again. If he has any chance of that, he needs to figure out some way out of this terrible place. Tiptoeing out a bit further, he looks around and listens hard for any trace of the Xixime but it’s only the sounds of the jungle that call back to him. He needs to get moving and in the end he decided that going forwards would be the best option as there’s less thorn bushes that way. Once he was on his way, the jungle wrapped itself around Richie like it was taking ownership of him and it’s leafy arms seemed to drop behind him and block the way he’d come, when his path ahead to difficult to get through. It was exhausting and frustrating and the heavy perfume from all the plant life surrounding him was making his head fog. There had been no other noise apart from his own heavy breathing and footsteps, so Richie hoped that he was putting some distance between himself and the huntsman behind him.

 

Richie had thought he knew what being in a jungle would be like, he'd sat through Aguirre; Wrath of God and Predator enough times _and_ he had read almost entire library’s worth of books about the life span of the Amazon rainforest. Seth had told him he was being silly, that it was pointless reading all that crap, but Richie had been insistent; if the trees died out then what would they all do for oxygen? However this wasn’t anything like that; his first breath under the dense canopy as he crept out from the cave was like inhaling warm, wet sludge. It almost felt like he was drowning and the more he tried to draw in air, the harder it became and his head started to swim. The dawn had barely broken but he needed to keep going, this was the prime time for hunters to be out and he needed to act fast if he was ever going to find a way out of here. Wiping the sweat and blood out of his eyes, he takes a few tentative steps forward and winces as pain shoots through his knees. Last night had been one of the most terrifying nights of his life; even scarier than when Pa had gotten drunk and started taking pot shots at him with his gun. At some point when he was running for his life, chased through the jungle by hunters who knew just how to hide amongst the dense vegetation, he had tripped over a vine root and gone crashing to the floor. The skin on his palms and knees had been shredded, leaking blood all the way down into his shoes but he pulled himself up and carried on going as best he could.

 

The jungle is hot and sticky; flies and mosquitoes bite at his bare skin and Richie stumbles along on injured legs and skin that’s got more holes in it than the clapped out old car Uncle Eddie used to drive them to school in. He keeps remembering little flashes like this, here and there, but he still has no real memory of why he’s ended up in the jungle. That doesn't matter though, he can figure that out latter, he just needs to get back to Seth somehow. Tree branches tear at Richie’s face and hair as he tries to push his way through a particularly large thicket of vines but as soon as he clears it, he lets out a loud gasp of surprise; there’s a river here. 

 

The water is green, darker in the shadows and more pale in the light, but still green. Ignoring the fact that it’s probably full of crocodiles and piranhas, Richie lunges forward and scoops some water up with his hands; he’s so thirsty. The water trickles down his throat and does a little to relieve the burning hunger that sits inside his gut, and Richie drinks his fill greedily. He’s so engrossed in quenching his thirst that he almost doesn't hear the soft rustle of leaves just ahead of him. It could be an animal, or leaves falling from the trees, he thinks desperately as he carries on drinking and splashing his face with water. Then he hears it again, his cupped hands halfway to his mouth, the sound of a loud hard echoing through the jungle. Water drips down his legs as his hands slip apart and he start to tremble with fear as he looks out into the trees; and the jungle looks back.

 

Richie barely has time to breath as a man, his skin almost a bluish black like the night sky and his eyes burning red, seems to burst out of the jungle and smashes a bone club into his jaw. Then he’s falling through the air, as he tumbles backwards down the ravine, his body smashing heavily to the ground as he finally hits the jungle floor. Dazed and bleeding, Richie tries to struggle to his feet but a large foot kicks them out from underneath him and he lands painfully on his side. The man is on him in an instant and his red marking stand out brutishly against his dark skin; dozens of animal skulls are tied around his loin cloth and he has a sharp blade in his hand.

 

 

“Pretty, pretty,” he cackles, as he pins Richie to the floor and runs the blade down Richie’s cheek, along his lips and clinks it against his teeth, “They call me Lone Wolf, what they call you?”

 

He’s sitting right on his chest, so Richie can barely breath let alone answer, and he chokes for air as Lone Wold grabs his hair and twists his head to the side.

 

“I name you Little Snake,” he jeers as he rubs his finger over the two tiny, pinprick scars on the side of his neck, “What are you doing down here Little Snake?”

 

The blade is still being pushed up against his mouth and Richie feels a sharp sting as blood starts to trickle down his skin. Lone Wolf smirks at him and rubs his finger through the blood and traces an unknown pattern on Richie’s forehead.

 

“Little Snake,” he laughs as he returns the blade to Richie’s mouth, “Filthy Little Snake.”

 

Richie tries not to breath too much and end up slicing his own tongue off as he looks up into those fathomless blood red eyes.

 

“They say you from the Other-Side,” he says mockingly, as he rubs the carved flint against the side of Richie’s lips, “I say that don’t matter, _I_ say you stuck here Little Snake.”

 

He tries not to cry out as Lone Wolf nicks the his chin with the blade, blood running all the way down to his neck. Lone Wolf bares his teeth at him, his long dark braided hair brushing against the side of Richie’s face. 

 

“I say, none gonna come for you Little Snake,” he whispers in Richie’s ear and he feels hot, rotten breath brush against his skin, “I say they ain’t gonna come calling, no matter how much you beg Little Snake.”

 

This time Richie really does let out a sob because thats exactly what he’s been afraid of all this time, of being left alone to rot down here. 

 

“They say we bring you too One-Above-All,” Lone Wolf whispers to him, his teeth bared in a wide grin, “I say I skin you, leave you here.”

 

He pushes the blade deeper into Richie’s lip, causing him to cry out in pain, and then leans down low as he licks the blood off his face; smearing his tongue all across Richie’s cheek. 

 

“You taste funny,” he ponders as he removes the blade and holds Richie’s chin firmly in his hand, blood leaking down his fingers, “Maybe I taste some more?”

 

Richie desperately tries to throw him off as he wriggles his body but Lone Wolf has got him pinned tight; his weight is too much for Richie to shift and his body to weak to fight him off. Lone Wolf seems to enjoy this though, and he grins down at him as he bounces up and down on top of him; knocking the wind out of Richie every time he does so. 

 

“You like that Little Snake?” he laughs at him as Richie struggles to breath, “Maybe Lone Wolf play with you before he skin you.”

 

Richie lets out a dry sob as Lone Wolf starts running the blade down the centre of her chest, nicking the few buttons that are left as he does so. His tongue slides roughly down the side of Richie’s face again, spittle dripping down Richie’s chin and mixing in with his own blood. He keeps his mouth tight shut as Lone Wolf tries to ram his tongue into his mouth, his hand squeezing Richie’s face to try and open his jaw. When its clear that Richie isn't going to participate willingly, Lone Wolf yanks his head back his hair, causing Richie to yell out in pain, before he forces his tongue inside his mouth. It’s disgusting and Richie tries not to gag as his fingers close around a rock, drawing it into the centre of his palm whilst Lone Wolf is distracted. 

 

Cruel hands roam about his body, and Richie allows this, for a few brief horrible moments, before he smashes the rock into the side of Lone Wolf’s head. Without even thinking; he face slides back to reveal his fangs and sinks them straight into the side of Lone Wolf’s cheek and bites down hard. Horrid black, blood fills up his mouth as Lone Wolf bellows in agony, slamming his fist into the side of Richie’s head to try and make him let go. After a particularly heavy blow, Richie lets go and slumps backwards onto the floor, breathing heavily. With a roar of rage Lone Wolf starts pummelling him with his fists and Richie vomits up the vile tasting blood and a huge, wet lumpy thing comes flying out as well; it’s bit’s of Lone Wolf’s face. 

 

“I.. KCIL.. UGNP…” Lone Wolf gurgles, blood pouring out of the side of his face and Richie tries to struggle out from underneath him but it’s pointless; showing his second face has used up whatever energy he had left.

 

Fingers snatch at his hair and Lone Wolf bends Richie’s head back to expose the soft skin of vulnerable skin of his neck. 

 

“Ittgl, chk,” Lone Wolf gurgles at him, the knife in his hand pressed against Richie’s neck and tears start running down his cheeks; he doesn't want to die all alone like this.    

 

“Seth,” he chokes, even though he knows his brother can’t hear him, “Seth please help me!”

 

“No body come for you, Little Snake,” Lone Wolf spits and black blood oozes from the side of his face and drips down onto Richie’s hair, “Little Snake all alone in the jungle.”

 

The blade is cutting into this skin now and Richie cries out in pain but then, just as suddenly as he started, Lone Wolf pauses, the blade resting agains Richie’s neck, as he stares out into the jungle. Riche twists his head to try and see but Lone Wolf shakes him roughly by the hair and hits him in the side of the face to be quiet. Silence fills the air; nothing but the buzzing of the insects and the birds overhead but Richie can _feel_ that there’s something out there, something watching them from deepest depths of the jungle. Lone Wolf must sense it too because he let’s go of Richie and springs to his feet, holding the knife out in front of him.

 

“I am Lone Wolf, son of Howling Wind,” he shouts, planting his foot on Richie’s chest to prevent him from moving, “This my meat!”

 

The jungle doesn't answer him and there’s no sound except the breeze blowing through the trees, but Richie can feel the tremor vibrating through Lone Wolf as his foot shifts on top of him. There’s something out there, something out there in the leaves, and it terrifies him. 

 

“I am Lone Wolf, son of Howling Wind,” he shouts but even Richie can hear his voice wavering, “This is my meat and I am not afraid!”

 

Richie’s brain is going into overdrive; what if it’s the Xixime? If Lone Wolf managed to hunt him down, then they can’t be far behind. The terror of going back to that cage is too much for for him and he lets out a low, strangled sob; why won’t anyone help him? Lone Wolf brings his foot down onto Richie’s sternum, cracking something, and he lays there struggling for air. His captor is still staring fixedly at the tree line ahead of them and he raises his knife high up in the air in defiance.  

 

“I AM LONE WOLF, SON OF HOWLING WIND,” Lone Wolf screams, “I AM NOT-”

 

With an almighty roar, a huge, spotted beast leaps from the bushes; it’s gigantic paws outstretched as it lands right on top of Lone Wolf; it’s tail cracking into Richie’s arm like a whip. Lone Wolf never stood a chance and even as he lets out a loud scream, the Jaguar tears into his body with it’s razor sharp claws. Man and beast go tumbling to the floor and Lone Wolf tries to grab hold of Richie, begging him for help as the cat’s giant jaws clamp around his leg. Even if Richie wanted to help, the huge beast is already dragging Lone Wolf away from him and tearing at his legs with it’s claws. The air is filled with horrific screaming as the Jaguar locks it’s jaws around Lone Wolf’s skull and crushes it like it was little more than an egg. Then all that’s left is silence, as Lone Wolf’s body gives one last twitch and great beast drops him from his jaws like he meant nothing to it. Richie is still sitting there, absolutely frozen in place, as it pads up to him and it’s huge yellows eyes watching his every move. It’s little more than a few feet away but Richie is still too petrified to run; after what he’s just witnessed, he wouldn't even make it two centimetres. It’s standing in front of him now, black blood dripping from its fangs, and Richie can’t help but think how beautiful it’s spotted coat is; even if it is about to eat him. However, to his great surprise, the Jaguar merely rubs it’s great face against his like a kitten, before it wanders back to the lump of meat that was Lone Wolf and sits itself down, panting in the mid-day heat.

 

Richie is still in shock at not being eating when his heart begins to flutter strangely in his chest and his head is full of a strange, tall man. His head is pounding now but he can hear himself asking the man to do something, something important but it’s still all blurry and jumbled up inside his head, and he can’t get a clear picture of what’s happening. The Jaguar makes a little chuffling sound and Richie finds that his head is clearing a bit so he stumbles to his feet, as the giant cat stretches out on the jungle floor and cleans itself. Cautiously, he slowly sits down next to it but the cat seems more interested in washing the sticky black blood of its self. Richie edges a little bit closer to it, mostly so he doesn’t have to look at the shredded mess that is Lone Wolf, and it’s then that he spots Lone Wolf’s knife laying right next to the Jaguars tail. It’s an idiotic thing to do, he should have carried on running, but he needs a weapon if he has any hope of surviving out here. Rubbing the blood out of his eyes with his sleeve, Richie approaches the huge beast as cautiously as he can. It still doesn't seem to be very bothered by him though, and seems quite content to sit and clean itself as Richie inches closers and closer. Every crushed twig or leaf underneath his feet sounds ten times louder and every step feels like an eternity but the knife is almost within grabbing distance. The long spotted tail sweeps back and forth and Richie’s fingers slowly close around the bone handle. It’s then that Richie realises that the cat is staring at him, it’s huge eyes watching him closely as he snatches up the knife and stows it safely in the waistband of his trousers. The Jaguar gives a huge yawn and rolls onto it’s back, warming itself in the sun. Ok, Richie thinks, as he backs away and thanks whoever is up there for the beast not eating him. He’s almost at the tree line when the Jaguar sits up and growls loudly at him until he stops moving. Then it goes back to cleaning its self whilst Richie stands there and waits for it to finish. After a while it rises gracefully to its feet, the huge muscles in its legs rippling, as it starts to walk away through some dense vegetation. Maybe if he just waits here until it leaves, he can get back to running away from the Xixime? However, even as he’s thinking this, the Jaguar turns around and hisses at him and Richie doesn't need telling twice as he hurries after it, keeping a bit of distance just incase.

 

The Jaguar leads him through the jungle, deeper and deeper and even though Richie doesn't know why, he trusts it; it’s the first thing in a long while that hasn’t tried to kill him. For some strange reason he seem’s to know a lot about Jaguars or something to do with Jaguars, he can’t quite work out which one it is, but he can’t quite string the pieces together in his head. He’s read about them… somewhere or maybe he overheard one of the Xixime talking about Jaguars; Old Mother used to tell the little children stories about “he who kills with one leap” before they went to sleep.

 

“I read… or I think I read, that the Xibalban’s believe that Jaguars are God of the Underworld,” he tells it quietly, “And they helped the sun travel under the Earth at night, ensuring it would rise each morning. Is that true?”

 

The great cat growls at him, deep in its throat, and whips the back of Richie’s legs with its tail; clearly indicating that he should stop talking. Richie doesn’t mind so much though and he doesn’t feel quite as desperate as he did before, not now he has the Jaguar for company. They seem to walk for a very long time and Richie is all but dragging his battered body along; he’s not sure how much further it’ll be able to take him. Some little bits of him have healed but the hunger is starting to rear its ugly head and it’s making his mind play trick on him; he’s certain he can hear his name being whispered through the trees. Then the Jaguar suddenly stops near a patch of trees and gives off a low rumbling sound and Richie turns back to look at it. He had named it Peaches in his head, even though he’s sure it’s a male, but he has no idea why; the name just seemed to suit it.

 

“You’re leaving?” he asks it, even though he’s fully aware it can’t answer him.

 

It rumbles at him agains and Richie seems to understand it; it can’t go any further. A great sense of sadness fills him, as it looks at him with those big yellow eyes, and he realises that he’s going to be all alone again. Tentatively, he reaches out and strokes the cat’s giant head; it’s fur soft and sleek under his finger tips. The Jaguar purrs at him for a bit, and rubs itself against his legs briefly, before it springs up the nearest tree. Richie watches the last spot on it’s tail vanish out of sight before he picks up his trail again; feeling utterly miserable and alone. 

 

 

After that Richie wanders far and wide through the jungle but the loss of his furry companion, and the suffocating heat that sticks in the air, has sent him into a downward spiral. His brain is becoming foggy once more and sometimes he forgets that he’s not No-Name after all; he’s Richie. There’s other things too, things that bounce around in his head that he can’t seem to straighten out, like the sound of children crying, the smell of fire and the sound of a gunshot that makes his chest ache. 

 

“Seth,” he mumbles deliriously as he stumbles through a patch of vine leaves, “Where are you?”

 

All the trees look the same to him and Richie has no idea where he’s even going; the Jaguar had put him on the right path but he feels like he’s turning around in circles. Seth is home to him, he knows that now, but he can’t figure out how he can get there; not when he’s lost in the depths of the jungle. Maybe Seth is here as well, his fevered brain thinks, and is waiting for him somewhere but Richie doesn't like that idea; he’d die if he found out Seth was stuck down here too. The heat has been rising all day and Richie is desperate for some water, but all there seems to be is greenery so he trudges onwards. Blurry images keep flickering into his head and sometimes Richie isn't in the jungle anymore, he’s in car, a motel, a cheap strip joint but he’s never alone; Seth is always right by his side. The sense of loss is overwhelming and Richie starts to cry loudly and great big tears drip down his face as he stumbles along. He doesn't want to die down here all alone, never seeing his brother again and something is telling him that Seth would be lost without him as well. But why isn't he here? Why isn't he looking for Richie? Maybe the Xixime were right and he really didn't have anybody after all. 

 

“Seth, I’m sorry,” he wails, because saying sorry seems like something he should do, “Please, please help me.”

 

Then his legs finally give out and he sinks to the floor in a dead feint; his eyes sliding shut as the darkness takes over. 

 

Everything around him is white and far too bright when he wake’s up, the walls, the machinery around him and even the bed he’s been tucked into. There’s an awful ache in his head and his body feels sluggish and slow; it takes him a few attempts to fully open his eyes properly. Seth is sitting next to him in a huge chair, looking angry and upset, but it’s a teenage version of his brother and Richie struggles to remember why he’s here. The monitors beep repetitively next to him and Richie looks down to find his wrists wrapped up tightly in bandages. He’d done something stupid, something he hadn't really meant to do, but he’d felt like he didn't have any other choice; it hurt to much to be inside his head. Seth seems to notice that he’s awake and he jumps to his feet and comes around to stand beside Richie’s bed.

 

“Why would you do that to yourself?” he shouts, his face full of rage, “Why would you want to leave me all alone with out you?”

 

“I didn’t mean too,” Richie mumbles as he fights back the tears; Seth doesn't understand what it’s like to be the odd one, the one that nobody wants.

 

“Yes you did!” Seth snaps at him as he tries to fight back tears of his own, “You promised me! You promised me you wouldn't do anything to hurt yourself again!”

 

“I’m sorry,” Richie wails, because he is sorry, sorry that he hurt his brother and sorry that he hadn't managed to do what he intended to do. Life is hard when your own mind fights against you and you can’t make friends, people pick on you, tell you you’re a freak and you end up desperately lonely. 

 

Then Richie starts to cry because he can’t tell Seth the terrible thing he did that’s been eating away at him for years; he only did it to protect his brother. Words come pouring out anyway, how Seth is better off without him, how he should just leave Richie and make his own life for himself. There’s a dip in the bed as Seth crawls in next to him on the bed, tucking himself around Richie and holding him tight.

 

“You’re such an idiot,” he whispers as he brushes the tears off Richie’s face, “I wouldn't ever leave you all alone.” 

 

Richie huddles into his brother, savouring the warmth and safety he always feels whenever he’s around Seth, and his eyes start to slowly slide shut. However he doesn't want to fall asleep before he tells Seth he’s sorry once more but when he opens his eyes his brother is gone and all that’s left is the jungle.

 

“Seth?” he calls out, even though he knows that Seth is already gone. 

 

Richie sits there for far too long as he tries to cling onto the warmth that he’d felt, when he hears the softest rustle of leaves behind him. Turning around he stares out into the jungle and starts to hope that maybe it’s Peaches the Jaguar, come back to help him. There’s a low whistling sound and an arrow slams into the tree just beside Richie’s head and the sound of a hunting horn rings out; the Xixime have found him!  

 

He’s on his feet and running before his brain even has a chance to thinks about it; he can hear Monkey Claws joyful whooping right behind him. Richie’s breath is coming out in small spurts, hot and nervous. At his sides, long fingers curl into sweaty fists, swinging forward as if it would make him run faster. Behind him, he can hear the baying howls and jeering laughter of the Xixime as they close in on him. Mud is smeared across his sweaty face and sweat drips down from his thick, matted hair. Something whistles past his ear and an arrow slams into the tree ahead of him followed by a loud string of curses; he can practically feel their breath on the back of his neck.

 

"Please Seth, please help Me!” he screams out loud, smashing his way through a thorn bush as he pushes himself forward with even greater abandon. 

 

His lungs and heart were pumping, but the air didn't seem to be enough as he sprinted forward, panic trembling in his exhausted limbs. Being chased was nothing like the movies; Richie thinks as he forces his legs to move even faster. Mr White certainly looked a lot more in command of the situation whilst he was running from those three cops; the real life version of fighting for your life was was so far removed from anything on screen. His face is flushed red and his expression is just pure panic and just when Richie thinks he’s outran them, the Xixime are almost on top of him again. They're coming for him, to skin him and eat him like they do with all their prey, and Richie vaults over a fallen tree log and pushes himself onwards as arrows come flying at him from all directions. Something smacks heavily onto his foot and Richie is vaguely aware of the Lone Wolf’s knife falling from his waistband and onto the ground; he doesn't stop to pick it up. He’s seems to have found some extra energy from somewhere but just as he thinks he might actually be able to outrun them, something slams into his thigh and he goes crashing to the floor. Howling in pain, Richie rolls over to find a large arrow sticking out of his leg; without even thinking he snaps the end off and takes off again. 

 

“We gonna eat you No-Name!” Monkey Claw calls out but it sounds like he’s further away this time.

 

Despite the burning pain in his leg, Richie forges ahead in whatever direction he can find. If he can just put a little bit of distance between himself and the hunters then he might be ok; he might be able to find another place to hide like the cave. His feet slip and he almost tumbles over, wasting more time than he can afford as he tries to right himself. Cat-calls and jeers ring out behind him and they’re out of the bushes now and running through the trees towards him. His legs are spent and he wouldn’t make it another mile, not with his injured leg, and Richie looks around frantically for a way out. Then, deep in the jungle, the loud roar of a Jaguar rings out followed by the sounds of screaming and Richie decides that if he can’t go forwards than he’ll just have to go up. It’s getting dark now and Richie can’t see any other option as he starts to pull himself up the nearest tree; it’s achingly hard work, what with his injured leg and the fact that he can barely keep his body upright. He almost falls a couple of times but he keeps going until he’s high up in the branches and hidden well out of sight. Panting heavily he lays down flat on the large tree branch and tries to recoup some off his spent energy as the darkness filters through the jungle. At this point he can’t even see his own hand in front of his face so maybe the Xixime won’t see him either? He just needs five minutes, five minutes to rest and sort out his injured leg which is bleeding freely, the arrow head still stuck in it. He’s about to try and pull it out when something flickers out of the corner of his eye; it’s a torch light and as he raises his head a little, another ignites next to it and then another and another, lighting up the forest like candle light.

 

Time seems to tick by slowly as Richie remains hidden within the darkness of nightfall and he trembles with fear as he waits for the hunting party to pass beneath him. The nearest tree is too far for him to jump to should Monkey Claw, or one of the others, look up and catch a glimpse of him in the torchlight. They’re whispering in low voice about which way they should go; Flying Bat is saying left whilst Thunder Storm is insisting they take the path to the right. Richie clamps his hand over his mouth to stop the noise of his ragged breathing reaching their ears on the ground; he’s almost certain that they’ll hear his heart beating rapidly like a drum in his chest.

 

“No-Name not go far,” one of them grunts as he passes below Richie’s tree, “No-Name from Up-Top, he not know Xibalba like Xixime do.”

 

“One-Above-All will skin us, boil our heads, if No-Name not found,” his companion says and Richie can tell he’s worried by the tremble in his voice.

 

“No-Name stupid and slow,” Thunder Storm says, “He go this way so we go this way. No-Name not get far.”

 

After what seems like a lifetime, the band if hunters disappears off into the jungle and Richie dent dare breath until he’s seen the last of their torches disappear out of sight.  The pain in his leg is getting worse and Richie gently wriggles himself out of his trousers to he can get a better look at in the moonlight. Dusk has coated the glistening foliage with shadow and murk and Richie take’s a deep breath, counting his breaths in and out as he gingerly touched the sharp arrow head in his leg. The pain was like fire burning along his veins and he had to bite down on his bottom lip to stop himself from crying out. 

 

“Come on…” he willed himself quietly, as he takes a deep breath and readies himself, “You can do this!”

 

Before he can talk himself out of it, Richie grabs hold of the arrow head and rips it clean out; blood spilling out and dripping onto the tree leaves.  

 

“Grrnnn,” Richie hisses as he grinds his teeth down against the pain and his hands shake uncontrollably as he wads up some leaves to try and put pressure on the wound. Maybe if he rests it for a bit, it will start to heel on its own because there’s noway he’ll be able to walk on it, let alone run. 

 

The light from the moon starts to drain away there is barely enough even for shadows. Richie shivers and tries to pull some of the leaves around him; at least in the cage he had the warmth from the fire. The noise from the jungle is even worse at night and soon new sounds emerged; footfalls and the rumbling growls of predators walking their hunting ground. Richie is utterly terrified and he clings to the vine leaves just to stop himself from screaming out in fright as things start to jump around in the branches above him. As he’s so scared, his brain is getting foggy again and he’s starting to drift back to being No-Name again, as even the stars and moon cower behind a dense layer of cloud. He has to fight against it though if he has any chance of getting out of here, No-Name wouldn't have been able to do half the things that Richie has done in these past few days. Still, its hard to feel brave when you’re hiding halfway up a tree and terrified that the band of hunters that have been stalking your every move will find you. His ears have become tuned into every sound; every snap of a twig and his thoughts are getting increasingly paranoid. His body seems stuck halfway between flight and fright and as the blackness seeps in, Richie prays that the dawn is not far away. Sleep has never been something that came easily to him, No-Name wasn’t allowed to sleep and if he did, someone would come along and shake his cage or throw rocks at him. The loss of blood and lack of food is making him feel tired and sluggish and all too soon his eyes are drifting shut again. 

 

“Richie? Come on buddy, time’s a wasting,” it’s Seth, trying to force him out of bed but Richie is to tired and too sleepy to move. Wherever he is, its nice and warm and he doesn't intend on leaving anytime soon. 

 

“Up and at em, Little Brother!” Seth shouts, right in his ear, and Richie jolts awake; almost falling out of the tree.

 

He hates waking up like this, hate’s having Seth so close to him only to be snatched away from him again. What if Seth is just as lonely without him? What if he’s waiting for Richie to show up somewhere? He needs to find a way home, a way out of this stupid horrible jungle. The tree isn’t safe and Richie realises that, even though he managed to stay hidden within the darkness, he has no hope of doing so during the daylight. The Xixime would shoot him right out the tree with their bows and arrows if he stays here. Tucking the arrow head carefully into his trouser pocket, at least he has a weapon now, he climbs carefully back down the tree and heads off in the opposite direction the hunting party took. 

 

Cutting his way through the dense, suffocating undergrowth, Richie ploughed onwards but it felt like he was almost fighting for air, which still hung heavy and moist in the early morning sun. The heat and humidity pressed against his skin and the sounds of the insects, the birds and the larger animals confused and disorientated him once again. Maybe he should just go back to being No-Name after all. It would be easier then this, he thinks, as he hobbles along on his un-heeled leg. The jungle seems to have an intelligence of its own and Richie wonders id the Xixime have some sort of special connection to it and thats how they always find him so quickly; like it knew he wasn't supposed to be here.

 

A sudden gush of pain jolted throughout Richie’s body. His stomach was aching, his arms lost tension and his legs were so weak he could barely walk. "Seth, where are you?" he thought as his legs gave out and he fell to the ground. His vision is swimming in and out and he struggles for air in the suffocating heat. He remembers coming home, his real home, and finding Seth slumped over in the bathroom with a needle hanging out of his arm. He’d been so afraid that he was going to loose his brother, that the drugs would turn Seth against him, just like the drink had done to their father. Seth needed him, he’s lost without Richie. There was something else as well, something else at the back of his head that he just couldn’t clear the fog to get to; the smell of strawberries and a pair of dark green eyes. 

 

There was blood coating his tongue from were he’d bitten his lip when he fallen. Bruised and winded, with a leg in agony, he grabbed hold of one of the lower hanging tree branches and desperately tried to pull himself to his feet.  His head was pounding and it took him a few times before he managed it; he wasn’t going to die right here like a dog, not when his brother needed him. He stumbles on for a few more paces, wavering in and out of the trees as he tries to think of which direction would be best. Everything is blaring together once again and he stumbles on, vaguely hoping that this might be the right path to freedom.

 

“Seth, I don’t think I can do this,” he mutters, as he accidentally walks into a tree, “I’m sorry.”

 

Richie’s mind was starting to fail, like an engine that had been jump started too many times, never quite kicking into action. His couldn't formulate a coherent thought and the hunger was suffocating him; twisting him inside out due to his desperate need to feed.  Every move of his body only led to more pain, both from his injuries and from lack of what he desperately needed to function. If he could just have a drop, just a tiny little bit, then he knows he can survive this and figure out a way to get home. He’s vaguely aware that the ground is beginning to feel softer underneath his feet and he almost slips over as the leaves turn into mush. Then the smell hits him; the glorious, tangy scent of blood and his mouth is instantly pouring with saliva. Even though his whole body is burning with exertion, Richie charges forward as he desperately tries to seek out where, or what, the smell is coming from. Vines slithered down the cliff face like snakes, and Richie runs towards the sound of fast flowing water that’s just ahead of him. Smashing his way through thorn bushes and stinging nettles he finally finds what he's been looking for, its a river; a river full of blood. A loud roaring sound is coming from the opposite side and Richie realises that it’s coming from a the edge of a huge waterfall. 

 

Before he even realises it, he’s knee deep in the fast flowing water and Richie hesitantly cups a handful and raises it to his lips; the smell is intoxicating and before he can stop himself he’s already tipped it down his throat. It’s like instant gratification as the blood pours down into his body, seeking out every little bit of damage thats been done to him soothing it. His head doesn't feel as funny any more, its clearer somewhat now he’s not so focussed on being hungry all the time. Richie’s almost about to throw himself in and drink down great mouthfuls, when an arrow slams into his shoulder from behind. The force of it sends him stumbling over like a spinning top whilst the sound of the Xixime hunters roaring with laughter fills his ears. 

 

“No-Name think he too clever for Xixime,” Monkey Claw snarls as he draws another arrow, “No-Name just stupid!”

 

Another arrow slams into his foot and Richie cries out in pain, much to the joy of Monkey Claw. There’s nowhere left for him to run but he’s not going to give up, not now! Ripping the arrow out of his foot and then his shoulder, Richie struggles through the rising rip curls and the fast flowing river as he gets to the edge of the waterfall. Peering over the edge, Richie gulps in horror as he sees how high up he actually is; he can’t even see where the waterfall ends, its just a mass of red. His Pa never taught him or Seth to swim; said it was pointless as they didn't live near an ocean and with any luck one of them might drown and he wouldn't have to put up with their worthless asses. Richie had always tried to point out that swimming was a useful life skill but that had only earn him a smack around the head or having to sleep outside in the woodshed. Somewhere in his brain he knew the mechanics of swimming, he had read a whole book about Newton’s Laws of Swimming, but had never actually put it into practice. There was never enough time when they were out on the road and Seth was more inclined to want to drink then take up swimming lessons. It’s his only option now though, as the Xixime hunters are already wading through the water towards him, and he takes in a huge breath and jumps out into the void.

 

It seems like he falls forever but then he abruptly smashes into the water, sinking deeper and deeper and he tries to claw his way to the surface. Richie can feel himself suffocating as he tries to push himself up though the water until, finally, he manages to break the surface. Gasping for breath, he drags his way to the shore, struggling for air, and sinks down into the deep muddy bank. He lays there for a while and tries to regulate his breathing when he hears a loud splash behind him. Turning around he see’s Monkey Claws head pop up from the water; they’re jumping in after him. Struggling to his feet, Richie stumbles and slips through the mud as he tries to desperately get away. One mouthful of blood was nowhere near enough to fix his ravaged body but his mind is a little sharper and he leaps over a fallen tree as he pushes on through the jungle. The air is starting to smell clearer now and the trees less densely packed together and Richie can see the sunlight up ahead; he’s made it out of the jungle! Pushing his way through some vines Richie almost cries with happiness as he stumbles into a large clearing, right at the edge of the jungle. Then a voice right next to his ear startles him to the point of sheer panic.

 

“No-Name quick but not so smart!” it’s Chief Bloody Fist, materialising out out of the jungle next to him.  

 

Richie stares at him in confusion as the rest of the Xixime move through the greenery like chameleons. Then he looks at the clearing once more, its the same one they had dragged him to days earlier; they had chased him round in a circle. The Xixime are gathered around him now, laughing as he sinks to the ground and starts to sob uncontrollably; he was never going home, this was all just a game to them. Something kicks him hard in the back and he looks up through his tears to find Monkey Claw grinning above him.

 

“No-Name thinks he going home!” he mocks, as he kicks Richie again, “No-Name not have No-One, No-Name all alone.”

 

“No I’m not!” Richie yells defiantly as he shoves Monkey Claw away from him, “I have a name and a family!”

 

Monkey Claw looks furious at being spoken back to and he punches Richie hard in the face and climbs on top of him, whilst the rest of the tribe gathers around excitedly. Little Cub has a handful of stones in her hand and she pelts them at him as Monkey Claw forces him back down onto the ground. Richie lets out an agonised howl of pain as Monkey Claw sticks a clawed finger into the hole in his leg, digging deeper and deeper as he screams in pain.  

 

“You No-Name, we took you so we name you that!” Monkey Claw snarls as he twists his finger in deeper, “No-Name need a beating to forget again?”

 

“MY NAME IS RICHIE!” Richie screams at him through a mouthful of blood, as the little children taunt him by pulling grotesque faces at him. 

 

“Where No-Name learn that name?” Monkey Claw demands as he grabs Richie by the throat and shakes him, “No-Name not supposed to know that name. Xixime beat it out of him when he first came here!”

 

He buries his finger deeper into Richie’s leg; spilling blood out onto the ground as Richie desperately tries to pull his hand away.

 

“Stop,” he gasps as he tries to push Monkey Claw away from him with his hand, “Please, STOP.”

 

To his great surprise, Monkey Claw does just that, but his eyes have turned white and the tribe surrounding them let out an audible gasp of panic. Richie sucks back down some air as the hand around his neck goes slack and he pulls his hand back only to find a bright blue eye staring back at him from the centre of his hand. The Xixime are screaming now and He-Who-Greets-With-Fire is dragging Monkey Claws prone body off of him, just as what feels like hundreds of hands pin him to the ground. Richie is just as scared as they are; he has no idea how the eye in his hand got there.

 

“SETH! SETH!” he screams, as sharp fingernails claw at every bit of him and someone is prying his fingers apart to expose the eye thats staring out of his hand. 

 

“I told you this one not like the other snakes,” Old Mother is saying to Bloody Fist who is looking murderously down at him, “This one special.”

 

The crowd is almost suffocating him as they all climb over each other to get a better look at his hand, whilst the little children push their way through the adults legs and hiss at him. 

 

_“Miss Katherine.”_

 

Richie stares around desperately, he knows that voice from somewhere, and he frantically searches for someone to help him; until he realises its coming from inside his head. What’s happening to him? 

 

“PLEASE HELP ME!” he cries out as Bloody Fist scatters people out of the way and advances towards him, “SOMEBODY PLEASE HELP ME!”

 

“None here for you No-Name,” Chief Bloody Fist smirks and then he stabs his blade straight through the eye in Richie’s hand.

 

Pain ricochets around his head, smashing into every orifice as his screams echo around the clearing. His whole body starts to shake and black gunge bubbles up out of his mouth as he jerks back and forth. Great white spots of light slam back and forth between his eyes and he would have fainted, if it wasn't for the knife slamming back through his hand again and all he can do is scream.    

 

“SETH! SETH PLEASE HELP ME!!” he begs, as a blade is repeatedly stabed straight through his hand again, “PLEASE HELP ME!”

 

_“Miss Katherine it’s time to wake up; you are safe.”_

 

The blade is ripped out of his hand and then there’s blood being smeared over his face, the hunger is still so desperately consuming him, that he licks at it frantically before he realises it’s his own. The crowd is howling with laughter at him now, some making faces at him or throwing stones as he curls up into a ball and starts to sob.

 

“SETH!! _PLEASE,_ PLEASE HELP ME!” he screams again, even though he knows that he can’t hear him all the way down here, “SETH!”

 

_“Kate? What the fuck is wrong with her? Kate!”_

 

Chief’s Bloody Fist stands above him, his filled down teeth bared at him as he leans down and grabs Richie by his hair and forces him to look up.

 

“Little Snake, you are too far from home,” he snarls before he throws Richie back down so hard his head bounces off the floor, “They are not coming for you.”

 

Richie lays there, sobbing like a child in the dirt, as the tribe kicks at him, there gleeful shouts sinking into his brain as he cradles his bleeding hand. He wants to go home, he want’s Seth or someone, anyone, to help him. 

 

“Help me, please,” he cries as a foot smacks into the back of his head, “Please help me.”

 

His eyes are sliding shut as he start to loose unconsciousness but, underneath the dirt and the stench of his own body, the sweet scent of strawberries fills his head and somehow the pain seems to diminish somewhat. Turning his head to the side, he see’s something flicker in the shadows at the edge of the clearing. It seems like the entire world shifts and there, right beside the tree line, a beautiful young woman suddenly appears; her face frightened and confused as she takes in the baying mob in front of her. Richie blinks the blood and tears out of his eyes, as he tries to focus on the girl, when something familiar stirs deep within his gut as she turns slowly towards him; her wide green eyes finding his deep, dark blue ones. Like a big black cloud lifting he remembers her, remembers the feel of her lips pressed against his, the soft warmth of her skin and the smell of strawberries in her hair.

 

“Kate?” he whispers as she opens her mouth and starts screaming; her face full of anguish and horror. 

 

“RICHIE?!” Kate bellows as she takes off running, her hair flying out behind her as she charges towards him.

 

“Stop,” he mumbles and Bloody Fist must think he’s talking to him, because he slams the heel of his foot hard down onto Richie’s nose.

 

“Little Snake don’t tell me nothin,” he snarls as he stamps on Richie again, shattering his nose and sending bits of blood flying into the dirt, “LITTLE SNAKE NOT NOTHIN TO NONE!”

 

The crowd cheers again and the children scramble to pick up stones and clumps of earth off the floor so they can start throwing them at him again. Pain is all that consumes him now and Richie rolls over, vomiting up blood as he goes, his face sunk into the dirt.

 

“RICHIE!!!” Kate is still trying to fight her way through to him, screaming out his name as she goes, but it looks like she’s treading through quicksand and she can’t seem to get closer to him no matter how hard she tries.  

 

Nobody else seems to be able to see her and Richie thinks that he must be seeing things again; how would Kate even get down here? His bargain with Amaru had made sure that she would safe from the terrors of Xibalba. She’s trying to push her way through the crowd to get to him, screaming out his name, and Richie can’t help but think how beautiful she looks; even with her crooked hair and that ridiculous robe of his she’s wearing. 

 

“One-Above-All say you his,” Bloody Fist is saying, as he kicks Richie’s legs apart, “I say you belong to me now, Little Snake.”

 

Richie lets out a strangled wail as fingers close around his hair, dragging him back up onto his knees and a fist slams into his jaw. Someone is still has hold of him by the hair, so he doesn't drop just yet and he dribbles blood all over the ground. 

 

_“Kate can you hear me?”_

 

“Little Snake going to meet my Big Snake!” Bloody Fist hisses and he holds his hand out and is instantly handed what looks like a femur bone, polished to perfection and adorned with a massive plume of feathers; a small skull attached to the top of it. He swings it down over his head and Richie hears the sound of his own skull cracking under the force of it; his vision flickering in and out as some holds his upright. 

 

“RICHIE!!” it’s Kate again, on her hands and knees crawling towards him, trying to get through the crowd. They still can’t see her, but Richie’s rapidly failing brain is telling him that she shouldn’t be here. 

 

“Seth,” he mumbles, the gapping hole in his skull spouting blood all down his face, “Please… take…her.”

 

Seth isn't here though; if he was he wouldn't let Richie suffer like this. His brother had always taken care of him, looked after him when nobody else would and been the solid foundation he had needed to stop himself from fully slipping into the void. Richie just wishes he could have told Seth how much he meant to him and how much he loved him before he gets ripped away from him for good.

 

The second blow hits him in the jaw and sends four of his teeth flying out onto the floor; the little children fight over them as they roll about in the dust. In the distance he hears Kate calling out to him, her voice carrying over the din of the braying crowd. 

 

_“What’s wrong with her eyes? Do something man, you’re supposed to be the guardian or whatever shit it was you made up!”_

 

Richie slumps over backwards onto the ground; his body full of broken bones. The crowd has parted around him as Chief Bloody Fist circles above him and Richie catches a glimpse of Kate through the throngs of legs surrounding him. She’s trying to find a way to get through to him, screaming out his name, but the crowd envelops her and Kate disappears from his view. Maybe she’s not real after all, maybe his brain decided to do something nice for him for once and show him a vision he actually wanted to see. The club swings down on him again, shattering his leg this time but Richie can’t feel anything; he can’t even move. Blood bubbles up from his lips and dribbles down the side of his cheek as hands reach out and smear it all over his face. 

 

“RICHIE!!!” Kate is still calling to him; somehow he can still hear her voice and it sounds sweet, like church bells chiming in the mid morning sun.

 

Old Mother’s had been smiling down at him but then her head turns sharply away from him, her shrewd eyes scanning the exact spot where Kate is standing. No, he thinks desperately as Old Mother starts to walk over towards Kate, he can’t let anyone hurt her again. Richie tries to tell her to run, to go back the way she came and stay there, but all that comes out of his mouth is more blood. The scent of strawberries wafts towards him again and for the first time in a long while, Richie doesn't feel afraid. 

 

“You had enough now Little Snake?” Chief Bloody Fist asks as he kicks Richie over onto his back but Richie can only gurgle in response, “Little Snake not go running off again.”

 

Richie’s vaguely aware of Kate crawling towards him, her hand outstretched him as she tries to reach for him. Bloody Fist kicks his legs apart and grabs him by the hair; blood leaking out from the crack in his head and spilling out onto the dirt. Kate’s is only inches away from him now, her mouth wide open in a silent scream and its only then that Richie realises that he can’t hear her; he can’t hear anything.  

 

_“Miss Katherine, you must wake up now.”_

 

The deep green of her eyes, so much more beautiful than anything the jungle has to offer, is the last thing he see’s before everything turns black. 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Richie *cries a thousand tears*. 
> 
> Once again, thank you all for the lovely comments; I really appreciate them!

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all like the latest instalment! Reviews, comments and questions are all greatly appreciated!


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